Come In Closer
by xSadistxFujix
Summary: Pre-transfer: A Blaine-centric story beginning from before he transfered to Dalton, through canon, and into years in the future. Will eventually go AU. Eventual Klaine. HAITUS
1. Chapter 1

_So, here's the first—short—chapter of this story… it will be eventual Blaine/Kurt but Kurt won't even be in it until the chapter that covers "Never Been Kissed", maybe before that but Blaine and Kurt won't interact at least until that chapter. This is going to be Blaine-centric until then as well. Originally, this was going to be a one-shot. I noticed people calling him "smarmy" and said they preferred Karofsky to Blaine and I thought "well, yeah, Blaine is a bit smarmy, but I like him like that". In the end, this is now a multi-chaptered story._

_I hope you enjoy it though and I hope you enjoy my take on Blaine. Since we don't know his last name yet, I went with "Weller" because "Blaine Weller" sounded pretty good. So until we know what his last name actually is, he will be known as "Blaine Weller"._

**This chapter is now edited. I'd like to thank my new beta, **_**UchidaKarasu**_**, for his wonderful help! =) **

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs**

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Blaine knew he had his faults, but—then again—didn't everybody? Maybe he did come across a bit _too _confident, a bit too suave so that he was almost smarmy, but it was who he was, and he wasn't about to change that. Mostly though, it was a front he put up to show the stupid assholes at his school that the bullying wasn't getting to him.

Of course, it was a lie, and of course, they could see right through him.

And it was days like these that he wanted to disappear—to be swallowed up by a large black hole never to be seen again. Many times he had gone to the teachers, almost desperate in his hope they would get the bullies to stop. After all, wasn't it their job to look after the kids in their care? To make sure that their students felt safe and not harassed while in school?

The most that was ever said about it was "We'll talk to them" or "I'll give them a detention" with that hesitant look on their face, which made Blaine just _know _they didn't really think anything of what was happening. It wasn't as if he was being jumped and kicked until he bled, so what was the big deal? He was gay; it was going to happen anyways, right? Because that's the way the world worked.

Blaine wanted to scream at the world for its unfairness. Wasn't America the land of the free, home of the brave? Only, Blaine didn't feel very brave at the moment, nor did he feel very free. Over two-hundred years ago (which wasn't very long if he think about it), people would came here for freedom of religion—freedom to believe in their beliefs. Slowly but surely, others began coming for multiple reasons other than religion. Eventually, blacks were freed from slavery, first partially then completely, and women were given the right to vote and such. However, it was 2009 and many people seemed to want to do everything in their power to make sure homosexuals' lives were a living hell.

He had to admit, they were succeeding for the most part.

The ways of mankind were reverting back to how they once were, but hell, a long time ago it may not have been accepted but even kings had affairs with other men in their military, and not to mention Greece where they performed the Olympics completely naked.

Couldn't people just mind their own business? It wasn't his business if a husband cheated on his wife with three other women and he honestly didn't care because that man—unless it was his father or a member of his family—would be in no way related to him. Yet that very same man condemned him and others alike just because he found males attractive, not females, and he wanted _one _male to be happy with? What was so wrong with it?

He understood their ignorance as much as he understood why someone would like a peanut-butter and mustard sandwich—which wasn't at all.

Suddenly, an arm dropped over Blaine's shoulders and he stiffened, glancing over his shoulder as he closed his locker, wanting to push the arm away from him. "Heading off to Fag Band?"

"It is called Glee Club," Blaine corrected as he shrugged the arm off, looking around and slightly up at his tormentor—Alexander Forgrove, a person who had been teasing and bullying him since they were in elementary school. "I understand if those words are a bit too big for you to say, Forgrove, but you could at least make an attempt." He held his head up slightly, inwardly knowing insulting him in even the smallest way would result in hell later on, but the slightly smarmy and superior front he put on had started to become his personality and he found himself not being able to help it.

"Funny." Alexander gave a mock laugh, glaring down at his slightly smaller classmate. "If I wasn't so shocked at how hilarious it was, I would be rolling on the floor right about now."

"Please don't, I don't think I could bear to step on any spot your body has been." He could barely get the sentence out before he was pushed hard back into the locker, the feel of his lock digging into his back and the hard smack to his head sending the hall a little bit blurry.

"Don't think me dumb, fag," Alexander spat, and Blaine inwardly wondered if he even _knew _his name. "At least I don't prance and sing everywhere I go."

"I don't prance…" Blaine stated quietly, but the teenager didn't seem to hear him. 'Prance'—such stereotypical-ism it was almost laughable to think most homophobes actually thought _all _gays were like that. In fact, Blaine hadn't met one who "pranced". Sure, he knew they were out there, but he hadn't ever seen one.

"Bet you and other homos in that faggy glee club of yours have a lot of fun in there together. So what is it you do? Get on your knees and suck each and every one of their cocks? Bet you enjoy that."

Blaine winced at that—he was used to it, being talked about as if he were some slut for any and every male that wanted him to "suck their cock" or "spread his legs". He felt sick at the thought of being like that and didn't appreciate being called such by someone who didn't even know him.

He honestly just wished that there was someone who could tell him what to do about the bullying and tormenting he was subjected to every day. He had no clue. Should he just suck it up and take it? Stand up? Ignore it? Leave? Couldn't someone just tell him what to do? It would partially take the load off of his shoulders and Blaine was positive he would feel a lot better. Just knowing that someone actually _cared _that his life was basically hell, that someone cared enough to tell him that there were better things out there—_that_ something that would make all of it worth it.

But Blaine was beginning to think nothing was worth this torment.

When his tormenter figured that Blaine was no longer paying attention to him, he scoffed and knocked him away before continuing on his way down the hall, grabbing a random girl and wrapping an arm around her. The girl automatically beaming and snuggling up to him; after all, it was every girl's dream to be laid by Alexander Forgrove.

Gently, Blaine touched the back of his head, wincing slightly at how sensitive it felt. It was nothing new though and he glanced around the hall, not seeing anyone who had been paying the slightest bit of attention to his harassment. Then again, why should he even think that someone would? It was a normal occurrence and he was just a stupid sophomore who happened to be in "faggy glee club".

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George Weller was not an idiot. Far from it, in fact. He knew there was something going on with his son when he once again walked into the house, as silent as a mute as he headed upstairs for his bedroom.

"Mmm, is he being moody again?" his wife, Hannah, smiled slightly, looking up the stairs. "I'll bet you anything it's a girl."

"Eh?" George glanced over to his wife curiously, wondering how a girl played in with their son's silence and oddness that had been popping up more often than not as of late.

"A girl. You do know what those are, seeing as I'm a girl. Blaine probably has a crush and is too frightened to do anything about it. How cute," she giggled. "I bet it's that girl Lesley; she's pretty, isn't she?"

There was a snort from the room next to them and they looked over to see their youngest son, flipping through the music channels as he did his homework. "It's not a girl, Mom."

"And what does that mean?" Hannah frowned, hands on her hips, voice a little tough.

Parker glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "He's being bullied. Has been since elementary school and it only gets worse every year."

"How would you know that, Parker? You're only in seventh grade." Naturally it was Hannah who asked, the woman had always been the talker between the two of them.

"Everyone knows, and besides, it's Emily's brother who bullies him. Of course I would know seeing as Emily is my best friend." Parker shut the TV off, standing and heading for the stairs.

"What? Why is this the first time your father and I have heard of this? Why is Blaine being bullied—why is Blaine _letting _himself be bullied by Emily's older brother? We met him; he seemed so nice and accomplished. Is it that club he's in?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Parker questioned, a slight sound of disbelief in his voice.

"What's obvious, Parker?" George asked patiently. He was used to the way Parker handled things, slowly and vaguely. He definitely got that from himself.

The teenager shook his head before starting up the stairs. "You'll have to ask Blaine. But… Glee Club is only part of the reason."


	2. Chapter 2

_So, I figured, for the most part, the chapters are going to be short until Kurt comes in. Then the chapters will gradually start getting longer—I'll say at least 2,500 words to 4,000 which is where I like it to be at. 3,000 words is my ideal minimum for chapters, but that's not working for this story yet, so, yeah, lol. Did you guys hear "Baby, It's Cold Outside" full yet? It's AMAZING! And I guess there is a rumor going on that all 12 songs will be in a 90 minute episode? HELL YEAH! _**Less-than-three**

**Edited: Chapter is fixed and edited thanks to my new (and first) beta UchidaKarasu! He's totally awesome. =)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and the plot… for the most part.**

_Oh, and poor Blaine. DX_

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Blaine had opinions on a lot of things. However, normally one tends to have opinions on the things one cares about. Blaine was not an indecisive person, which also helped strengthen his own opinions about multiple subjects.

And there was one such opinion that he couldn't help but have as he eyed the teenagers in the parking-lot of the school, bats held in their hands. Maybe it was just him, but he didn't understand why teachers—even on a day such as Halloween (maybe especially on a day such as Halloween)—would hand teenagers bats, give them a rundown care—that a teacher or another student or a parent usually donated for the carnivals—and tell them to _beat the car up _and make it even _less _useful than it already was.

He winced as one of the boys smashed in a window of the car, some of the girls standing aside cheering their men on.

"It's going to be suicide to try to perform tonight, you know." Lesley glanced her nails over as the Glee Club waited inside their club room, costumes on and ready to perform once the clock hit 7:30 pm.

"It won't be that bad," Blaine replied, inwardly knowing that what he said was a downright lie, and he winced again as the sound of something breaking from the car sounded in his ears. "At least as long as they don't bring those bats we should be fine."

"Who the hell even gave them bats and a car?" a Muslim girl by the name of Nazia Ameen questioned, hand placed on her hip.

"Probably the same person who didn't punish them for throwing rotting tomatoes at us the last time we performed," muttered Taro Smith darkly, not being able to help but throw a glance at Blaine, one which was slightly angry and annoyed.

Blaine sighed silently, knowing automatically what the half-Japanese teenager was thinking, and he really couldn't blame him for it. It wasn't that the people at school had a problem with the Glee Club—in fact, a lot of them loved the performances they gave the school, however little that be—it was that they had a problem with _him_. That was because not only was he gay, but he also came across very confident and at times even 'holier-than-thou'.

Maybe his personality and attitude was a bit annoying, but he wasn't about to change it for someone he wouldn't even talk to after they graduated. "Tell me, Taro, are you having trouble with anything?" he asked curiously, politeness seeping from his voice, and Taro scowled, glaring hard at him.

"Stop trying to get in my head, Blaine. It doesn't want you there."

"I'm just trying to help a friend who may be in need." Blaine knew that 'friend' was definitely not a word he should use when describing most of the other Glee Club members, but he couldn't help how it slipped out and his head raised that little bit higher, his back straightening up as if he just knew _everything _there was to know.

By no means did he think he did. In fact, it was probably the exact opposite, but somehow this trait of his seemed to mold itself into him and it made it rather difficult for him to make friends, especially with others who came across just as arrogant as he seemed.

"Friend? Bull shit." Taro stated nonchalantly, and Lesley sighed as the others just awkwardly ignored the somewhat-banter between their two best male vocals—granted, it was mostly Taro who was doing the bantering. They were used to it and as much as they didn't like it, they had to put up with it.

"Can you two stop this?" Lesley finally questioned, annoyance thick in her voice. "We have to perform in less than an hour and I for one do not want to go out there with an obvious tension between us."

"That reminds me of something…" a blond male by the name of Jared Turner began, fidgeting nervously as all fourteen of them turned to look at him. "I think… Taro should sing lead tonight."

Blaine stiffened as everyone fell silent, the distant laughs from down the halls floating inside of the room. "What?" Casey Reade began. "But Blaine is singing lead—we've already rehearsed it with him singing. To change it now would be even more suicide than it already is. If we mess this up we can't perform at sectionals this year."

"I know…" Jared continued slowly, not looking at Blaine in the eyes and instead looked everywhere but at him. Blaine wished he wouldn't. "Which is why I think Taro should lead. Look, we know Taro would be able to do it and as he said, that last time Blaine led we literally got rotten tomatoes thrown at us." He looked around at the others and slowly looks of agreement began to form on their faces.

Blaine frowned, burying his hands into his pockets to keep them from clenching. He wasn't even mad that they thought he shouldn't lead, but to say it and act as if he weren't even in the room…

"But _Blaine_ is supposed to lead." Lesley stated as if it was unthinkable that Blaine _wouldn't _lead, especially since it had already been practiced for a few weeks.

"Yeah, but—"

"No," Blaine shook his head, urging looks his way. "It's fine; I understand. Obviously they would rather not be associated with me. It's fine, I understand. Maybe… maybe I shouldn't perform with you all. It may be for the best."

"Hm, we'd actually have an even fourteen." Taro pointed out as if it was his idea and Blaine couldn't help a bitter smile at that. Of course it mattered that there would be an even fourteen. It would look a lot more organized with one less member.

"Yes, so I suppose I'll leave you all," Blaine stated, nodding slightly and heading for the door.

"Blaine! Wait, are you quitting?" Lesley's hand was suddenly on his arm and Blaine sighed, looking around at her.

"Well, I wasn't going to but that is probably the best idea." Lesley went to reply but Blaine shook his head with a small smile, gently moving her hand. "I'm not so self-absorbed that I would do what's best for me and not the Glee Club. It's not the club people have a problem with, it's me… quitting will be the best for all of you." He let himself glance over them before turning back to the door, suddenly feeling very empty inside. "Don't worry about me. I'm used to harassment."

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He had to admit that Taro had really rocked the song and instead of throwing tomatoes—or any other such object—people were cheering and dancing along, singing if they knew the song. The opposite of what the majority would be doing had he sung lead.

They were in their element; they all looked natural up there. And while Blaine loved being up on stage, singing his heart out, he had to admit he never felt at home there on that stage. He felt as if he were in foreign territory, an outsider invading someone else's spot.

Maybe it really was for the best that he quit the Glee Club, but what was he to do now? He loved Glee, loved being on stage and being recognized for his talent. Then again, he never was, what with the close-minded assholes that seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell and bringing the others down with him as well.

It would be selfish of him to stay around them. None of them would be able to go on to sectionals and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted. He wanted to beat Vocal Adrenaline just as badly as any other Glee Club in Ohio wanted to do—any Glee club in the USA, actually. If that meant his Glee Club had to do it without him, then that was that. There really was nothing more to it.

Did it hurt? Of course it hurt. Terribly so as well. But Blaine was used to that. It wasn't anything new and he just had to 'suck it up' and let them believe it didn't bother him. That was what this mask he had molded onto him since middle school was for.

Too bad that for the most part it didn't work. Everyone still saw through him and it tortured his mind trying to figure out _how _they did so.

Perhaps Blaine would never figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here's the 3__rd__ chapter. First, I want to thank my wonderful beta __**UchidaKarasu **__for his help! This chapter is definitely better than what it had been, as well as my others. Second, wow, thank you guys. Seriously, you Glee fans are VERY nice with reviews. That's a lot of reviews, at least for me._

_Next, I changed the timeline slightly. It's one year back because I'm pretty sure Blaine is a senior when he meets Kurt, unless Kurt was a freshman in the first season, then Blaine is a senior. Plus—Kurt's birth year is the same as mine (1994) and I'm a junior this year and its 2010 in the show, going on 2011 SO, I'm going with senior/junior for the two of them._

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs sadly. It's obvious though, isn't it?**

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If Blaine could only pick one word that he hated more than any other, it would be 'coward' and any form of it. It wasn't that he disliked any such 'coward'; it was the fact that he could see that trait shining clearly inside of him and he didn't know how to get rid of it. He was confused and didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to stand up for himself, tell the jerks at this school to stop and pay attention to their own damn lives, but every time he tried to, his words caught in his throat and the tormentors would smirk, giving him a good knock up side of the head, push into the wall, or other such things before walking away.

And Blaine couldn't work up the courage to call out and instead bitterly clenched his jaw, fighting off the urge to slam his locker or a door or whatever was available at that moment.

Things were quickly moving downhill. He was in a car on one of those large San Francisco hills and the breaks weren't working. Despite how hard as Blaine tried to push on the breaks, to stop his heavy car, it just wouldn't listen. He could see the other cars moving quickly at the street below, and any time now he would crash into them. A wreck was going to happen soon, he was sure of it.

Unless someone did something about this bullying, unless someone helped him figure things out, he didn't know where he was going to be in a few months. The bullying may not have seemed too bad—he had never been beaten to a bloody pulp after all—but still, there was only so much that someone could take of it.

It pissed him off that none of the people in charge of the damn school cared enough about the students they were looking after to put an end to the harassment. Or maybe that wasn't the complete truth. They cared, just not about him or the other LGBT kids—not to mention all the others that were also in that category such as pansexuals—that were members of the school.

When Holly Enders got her hair pulled and slapped by another girl, leaving a few, thin red marks along her cheek, the other girl had gotten suspended for three days for starting a fight. But when Jason—or Jasmine as she insisted being called—Peterson, a male-to-female transgender, got tripped while going down the stairs, the perpetrator merely got a detention because the teachers deemed it an 'accident'. Everyone knew that the guy had it out for Jasmine since she had been revealed to be physically male.

That had happened within his first month as a freshman—the year before—and things seemed to keep getting worse. After Jasmine had recovered from a concussion, sprained ankle, sprained wrist, and a broken leg, her parents transferred her to another school, one far away from this one.

Blaine didn't want to run away and inwardly he told himself he would never do that—it would be too _cowardly _and he definitely didn't want to be any more cowardly than he already was. However, as the days passed, he found his grades worsening until he was failing nearly everything. Lesley barely talked to him anymore from lack of response except one-worded answers, and with the utter depression he felt, Blaine was beginning to think that maybe it was time to just… give up.

"DAMN IT!" Blaine screamed, throwing a large, heavy text book at the door just as it opened. His father's eyes widened and he quickly jumped out of the way, the book missing him by barely an inch.

Blaine heaved as if he'd just come up for a breath of air from a long time spent beneath the ocean's current, fist clenching into his sheets, not really thinking what would have happened had that book hit his father.

"Blaine?" George asked warily, slowly stepping into his eldest son's room and closing the door behind him after picking up the text book and dropping it onto a table.

Taking in a slow, deep breath, Blaine forced himself to calm down, relaxing his clenched hands. "Sorry…"

"Its fine," he replied awkwardly, searching for something to say, not really knowing why he had entered his son's room in the first place. "What was that about?"

The dark haired teenager pondered on whether or not to pretend he didn't know what his father was talking about, but as he glanced up at him he noticed a tinge of worry in his father's expression and hated the feeling of guilt that it left him. "Just… things are a bit difficult at school," Blaine answered a moment later, playing his expressions into a look of _no big deal_. "I'm just a little stressed is all; my grades haven't been too good recently."

"I know," he sighed, taking a seat at Blaine's desk chair, turning it to face his son. "The school called earlier. You're failing four of your classes?" Blaine sighed, looking away. "Geometry, Biology I, World History, and English II? You were always so brilliant at English! What happened?"

"I told you, Dad, stress." He forced a calm-looking smile onto his face, hoping his dad fell for it. "I'll get caught up soon. I won't let myself fall too much behind. I just… need a break from it."

"From what?" the man questioned, that wary expression once again on his face, as if he were afraid of the answer he would get from his son, and Blaine knew automatically why. Even though he had tried his hardest to act normal over the last few months, his parents—and not to mention his brother—had no doubt caught on that _something _wasn't right.

Blaine had been acting more dead as the weeks passed. A lack of personality was suddenly poisoning him, slowly so that it tortured him into depression. He was no longer bubbly and laughing like he used to, randomly bursting into song every time a good one entered his mind or he heard one on the radio.

He was silent and it just wasn't right for any of them.

"From it," he repeated, not giving any more than that vague answer but—inwardly—the both of them knew what Blaine meant, although neither of them would admit as to what it was.

After a moment, George stated, "Dinner will be done in a few minutes."

Not feeling particularly up to doing _anything_, Blaine shook his head slightly, opening another text book and looking at it as if he were about to read. George ignored the fact it was upside down. "Can you tell Mom I'm not hungry tonight? I think I'll just go to bed after I do a little bit homework. I'll take a shower in the morning; I'm exhausted."

Blaine's voice was almost lifeless in its reply and George sighed, shaking his head as he stood. There really wasn't much that could be said, was there? Blaine was his son and he loved him dearly, but they had never been as close as he would have liked. Blaine had different interests than he did, than even his mother did. But he was talented, and amazingly so, which brought up another question:

"How is that club of yours going?"

His son stiffened almost unnoticeably before his shoulders were almost _forced _into a relaxed position. "It's Glee Club and… I quit." Blaine stated, flipping a page in his text book, still seemingly not noticing that all the words were upside down.

George's eyebrows arched up, a feeling of complete shock rolling through him. "You quit?" It was almost unthinkable and for a moment he had thought he had heard wrong—there must have been something wrong with his ears—but then Blaine nodded and repeated himself and George just _knew _there was something wrong with this. "But don't you love this Glee Club? I've seen you up there! You're a brilliant performer."

A look overcame his son's face, eyes kind of sliding out of focus as if his mind was now somewhere else. The expression of longing was one George could describe perfectly as it was nearly the same one he had used whenever Hannah had walked passed him when they were teenagers.

Finally, Blaine shook his head, the look disappearing almost as soon as it had come and he closed his book, pushing it aside. "I just didn't feel as if I belonged in Glee Club anymore. I quit. It's for the best."

He wondered how someone as young as Blaine—merely fifteen years old—could be as mature as he was being now, or how he could force those words out of his mouth as if he meant them. However, the stiff way in which Blaine said this told him everything he needed to know and George hesitated for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to address this. In the end, he decided not to, sighing and nodding as he walked towards his son's bedroom door.

Pausing to look around at his son before exiting the room, George told him, "Blaine, you do know that if you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me or your mother, right?" A small flash of _something _went off in Blaine's eyes, but it was gone before George could make it out. "We're here for you whenever you need us."

Slowly, Blaine nodded. "Yeah Dad… I know."

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He was in a café when he heard about it.

The place, at that moment, was sounding more and more like a heaven to him than anything else in the world. Originally, he had planned to just walk to school that day—Forgrove took his bus and more torture was the last thing he needed at the moment—but his stomach gave a protest at the exercise without having eaten anything since the night before, so Blaine sighed and walked into the coffee shop to order something that could hopefully hold him over until he had lunch.

It was nothing new to pass by kids in dark navy blue jackets—so dark, it nearly looked black—with red trimming. There was a boy's private school not too far away, so it was a common sight. Blaine had never really given it any thought until this particular day.

"I can't believe he did that, honestly. He's been going there for what, three years? You would think he would know not to shove someone out of his way and punch them in the face in the middle of class," a lighter haired boy said to his friend, who nodded seriously.

Normally, Blaine wasn't one for eavesdropping, but the conversation caught his attention and he couldn't help but tune into what they were saying.

"I guess some people get so angry they tend to forget they're going to Dalton, huh?"

Dalton? He knew that was the name of the school—one for boys, he believed. Or, at least, he had never seen girls dressed in similar uniform colors.

"Seriously, Dalton is like the _king _of zero-tolerance." Zero-tolerance? Why did that word mean so much to Blaine? It could have meant anything, but they way they were putting it… and what other "zero-tolerance" did schools have other than things such as bullying, maybe?

He didn't know for certain; he was jumping ahead of himself, Blaine knew, but there was just this small hope in him that he couldn't shake. Blaine probably shouldn't have even bothered thinking about it. Schools like that were always expensive, and while he was sure his family could afford it—for the most part—he didn't want to make his family do that.

However, curiosity got the best of him and Blaine glanced over his shoulder toward the two other boys, both of which looked older than him by a year. As he worked up the courage to walk over, nearly forgetting what he had come there before, the two of them looked up at him.

"You both go to Dalton Academy, right?" he questioned rhetorically as he eyed their uniforms but they both gave small nods, most likely a little curious themselves as to why some random person would come up to them all of a sudden.

Blaine smiled slightly, sitting in the chair across from them. "My name is Blaine Wellers and I go to Tod High School. This may seem rude, but I was hoping if you could tell me about Dalton?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Here's the next chapter for 'ya... and... sorry in advance? Heheh..._

**Disclaimer: Mou... you all know I don't own it, so why even bother? =\**

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Staring down at the pages in front of him, Blaine quickly read them for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Fifteen-thousand dollars. Fifteen-thousand dollars plus fifteen-thousand dollars. _Thirty-thousand dollars _for one year at Dalton Academy was definitely steep, to say the least.

Blaine had known that Dalton was bound to be expensive. It was, after all, a prestigious private school with a zero-tolerance harassment policy and had scouts from nearly every major college visiting because of its wonderful academic and extracurricular programs. It was a teenager's dream—maybe except for the uniforms and the lack of females for the majority of males in attendance—but the amount it cost was definitely a nightmare for a parent, he was sure.

Turning to the history portion, Blaine began to scan the papers. He had read it so many times it seemed useless to read it another, but maybe if he read about it once more, that small chance that he would be able to go there would heighten.

It lightly went over the details of its founding; barely brushing over the reason the zero-tolerance policy had taken effect. This was something Blaine now felt curious about. He filed that away in the back of his mind to check at a later date as he turned once again to the financial section.

He bit his lip as he read those letters for the hundredth-and-first time. This was probably the one factor that would firmly make his parents say _no_. His family was by no means poor, but that didn't mean they wanted to pay thousands of dollars for something he could get nearly as well at the public school.

Although, Blaine highly doubted that a public school could even _compete _against something such as Dalton Academy.

"Blaine?" a voice said, interrupting his reading. Blaine quickly pushed the papers back into their folder before looking up, sighing as he saw Lesley standing beside his desk. "Can we talk? It's a free period," she added, as if that would help get Blaine to speak with her.

Pushing a smile onto his face, Blaine nodded and Lesley dropped into the empty desk next to him, looking down at her knees. "Blaine," she began slowly, a small hint of hesitance in her voice. "Are you really quitting Glee Club?"

Blaine sighed, tapping his pencil against his desk. "Lesley, there are things that I need to get in order. As much as I hate to say it, Glee Club just isn't as important to me at the moment." It was a lie, of course, but if it got Lesley off of his back about this, he would tell it without a bit of guilt.

"But Blaine…" She glanced up at him, biting lightly at her lip and folded her hands together over her lap. "We _need _you. Taro is good, but he's not you. You're the best voice the Glee Club has. They don't get it—"

"And you do?" Blaine knew he was being rude, but the days only seemed to be getting worse and he felt the need to take his anger out. He shouldn't have taken it out on Lesley—she was his friend—but he felt ready to snap, and she was there. "You get what it's like to be thrown to the ground, be pushed around, have harsh and cruel words thrown at you for being yourself?"

"Then why not try to change it, Blaine?" She asked desperately, leaning forward and placing a hand on his, and Blaine blinked, too shocked to pull away. "Try dating a girl for a change. Try… try dating me for a change." Lesley's hand was soft, something which Blaine liked, but it still felt terribly wrong and he wrenched his hand away, ignoring how tears seemed to spring to Lesley's eyes.

"Lesley, what is this?" They were beginning to draw attention, everyone's eyes darting towards the scene. "You know I'm gay, don't you? It's not as if I hide it anymore."

"Well, yes, but you can try, can't you! I mean, I don't understand why you can't go out with me. You've never gone out with a boy or a girl, so how can you be sure? What if you're just confused?"

Blaine stared at her, feeling oddly hurt at her words. Wasn't Lesley supposed to be his friend? Yet here she was, claiming that he could go on a date with her and find out; oh, he wasn't gay, just _confused_. He could be completely 'normal' if he wanted to be, no questions asked.

"Lesley, are you serious?" Her eyes only widened slightly and Blaine let out an incredulous noise, standing while pushing his things into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Lesley questioned, standing from her own seat as Blaine began heading for the door.

He looked back at her, hurt showing clearly in his eyes. "Lesley, think over what you just said, and then try to figure out just _why _I'm quitting Glee Club." Without waiting for a response, he walked out, ignoring the teacher telling him that skipping school would result in punishment.

Punishment would be better than what was going on in his life at the moment, he was certain of it.

* * *

His mind was blazing with questions. Did Lesley like him? She knew he was gay, yet it seemed she _did _like him and this was a feeling Blaine just couldn't return. No matter what anyone said, he knew who he was and he was gay—it was only a part of him, but still, he _was _gay.

There was no way he could know for sure? Is that what she honestly thought? After all the years they had been friends, after all that time of him being out, she never got it?

Blaine sighed and dropped down onto a bench, holding his head in his hands. This pounding headache was getting to him. It had been constant over the last few weeks, not going away for more than a few hours.

"Damn it," he cursed lightly to himself after shrugging his bag off, hazel eyes closing as he rubbed at his temples. Dalton was sounding better with each day that passed. Maybe his family could afford it, but just barely. If he started in January to when he graduated, it would be $75,000—for two and a half years of attending the boys' academy.

It sounded exactly like some type of university to Blaine. Then again, Dalton _was _high up on the list of the best private schools in the United States. It wouldn't cost too much money to get from his house to the school, either. Westerville, Ohio was only about a twenty minute drive from the school, and it was only another ten to Dalton—or so he heard, at least.

The hardest obstacle to overcome would be how to tell his parents he wanted to be transferred to an expensive, all-boys private academy that would cost nearly $80,000 for two and a half years of attendance.

There was the truth, but was he ready for that? He had known since he was eleven that he wasn't quite the same as the other boys—his first crush had been on his babysitter's boyfriend, Kyle. The guy had been so smart, kind, teasing. He had ruffled his beyond curly hair and it had made Blaine happy. Blaine had been devastated when the two of them broke up and Kyle no longer ever came to visit, but he got over it.

Although there _was_ a reason he hadn't told them just yet. He wasn't sure how his parents would react should they find out his preference. His dad was difficult to tell no matter what, but his mother… the woman definitely wouldn't react kindly, and that frightened him. Blaine's mother had been raised extremely right-winged and while his father had as well, he had always been more lenient. While his mother encouraged him to use his talents, it didn't mean she would be okay with him being gay. He had noticed the hints of what kind of girl his mother wanted him to marry since he was thirteen. Someone nice, talented, smart—the girl every mother wanted for her son.

She had always put extra emphasis on the word "girl".

Blaine figured she must have had some sort of idea towards which gender he leant, but that she didn't really want to think about it. His brother had already guessed his sexuality long ago and had confronted him about it—when Parker was ten.

"You like boys, don't you?" he had asked a thirteen year old Blaine. Blaine only looked down at him in shock before slowly nodding. "I won't tell anyone," Parker smiled, hugging Blaine's waist—although Parker had already been gaining on him in height. Blaine had always been small for his age, after all. "I love my brother like he is!"

It had touched him more than anything ever had, to know that he had his ten year old brother's support to be himself. He and Parker weren't nearly as close as they had been, both being different ages and having different interests, not to mention that Parker's best friend was his tormentor's younger sister.

They had drifted apart, but still Parker kept that promise about not telling anyone, and Blaine was thankful for that.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and stiffened as someone leaned in close to his ear. "Hey, fag boy, ready to go for a ride?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Originally, I used paint, but my beta—_**UchidaKarasu—**_brought up a good point so I changed it to his suggestion. I want to thank everyone for their reviews and my amazing beta! You guys seriously have no clue how much all the reviews mean to me. The Glee fandom is almost too kind, at least the Klaine fans are. _

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plot and my OCs.**

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"Hey, fag boy, ready to go for a ride?" _that _voice whispered dangerously into his ear and Blaine groaned inwardly, realizing that this was the last thing he needed. "Brought some friends along and we have some place we want to show you. Interested?" Alexander questioned, tightening a hand over Blaine's shoulder, and he winced at the pressure, wrenching himself away.

"I'm not interested in any of your crude propositions," Blaine stated, trying to sound braver than he actually felt, but at the sight of the other's glare, he knew he should've kept his mouth closed. He wanted to talk back, to defend himself, but if he said anymore than he already had, Blaine knew that Alexander wouldn't be as 'kind' as he would have been to begin with.

"Ya sure, Blaine?" Alexander tugged him up by the back of his shirt, staring down threateningly at him. "'Cause my friends and I are positive you'll have… fun." He grinned and Blaine winced, the expression somehow frightening him even further.

Trying to force back his uneasiness, Blaine replied, "I'm sure our definitions of fun are vastly different, Forgrove."

"You're probably right about that," he agreed, placing an arm around the sophomore's shoulders as another person walked up to them. "Dude, where is he?" the junior asked his friend—Peter Mikales, Blaine recognized.

Peter smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tanner is picking up the supplies. He'll be here in a minute." Blaine felt as if ice cold water had been poured over him. Supplies? Was there a reason they were being so vague in their description? They were probably just trying to worry him, and it was working.

Suddenly, a large blue truck pulled up to the curb and his arms were clenched tightly on either side as he was nearly drug towards the door, bag still back on the bench. "Hey!" Blaine screamed, struggling against the two of them; it was just his luck that it was dark and nobody there to hear him.

"Shut the fuck up," Alexander growled as Peter climbed into the truck. Blaine was tossed in next to him, his tormenter jumping in after him and quickly closing the door, Tanner tossing a bag of something back to them.

"Good boy, Tanner," Peter chuckled, looking into the bag. "You deserve a cookie."

Blaine tried to tune them out, but it was almost useless even trying. He was squashed between Alexander and Peter, as if he would try to jump from the car should he be given the chance. Maybe he would. Any scars he got from that couldn't be worse than what was going to be done to him, right?

His heart was pounding in his chest, yet nothing bad had happened to him thus far. A part of him hoped that they were just trying to scare him—it worked if so—but he somehow doubted that.

It was only a few minutes later that Tanner seemed to be pulling into a rundown living area and Blaine glanced out of the tinted windows, wincing at the sharp sound of glass shattering and yells. Cries of children echoed outside and he could hear police sirens in the distance. Blaine was pulled from the truck and almost at once a man came up to them, eyes blood-shot and skin blistered and wrinkled. The sophomore gagged at the strong smell of vomit mixed with urine before the man was pushed roughly away.

Blaine couldn't help but send a small pitying glance back at him as the hand on his arm clenched tightly. "Ngh…" he gasped in pain, not having suspected the strength in the grip, so much harder than it had been before.

"Come on," Alexander hissed, pulling him into a narrow alley, so dark and crowded that Blaine officially lost all hope that someone would see and help him.

Why was it that he was so helpless, anyway? Why couldn't he do it for himself? Blaine felt useless and suffocated. What was he supposed to do? There was nothing he could do to get away. It was three against one and all three of the others were much larger than him and Blaine just wanted someone to tell him what to do.

Alexander shoved him back into the brick wall and Blaine felt a strong spark of pain shoot up his spine, groaning as his sight blurred. "Strip him," he heard and Blaine's eyes snapped open as he was tugged away from the wall, Tanner's and Peter's hands automatically moving to do what they were told.

"W-what? Forgrove, i-isn't this a bit too far even for you?" Blaine tried to control the waver in his voice, but with his shirt being pulled off and his pants tugged down, he was finding it more and more difficult to keep calm. What the hell was going on? Forgrove wouldn't… he couldn't, could he?

The junior merely smirked, sticking his hand into the bag that Blaine hadn't noticed they'd brought with them and pulling out a can, shaking it for a few seconds before pulling the cap off. "We'll let you keep your boxers on, don't worry. Unlike you, I'm not a fag and get turned on by other guys." He tossed something to Tanner before tossing another can to Peter and Blaine realized what it was with shock.

Hair dye—he was slightly worried about what they would do with that.

"Tanner here is actually a pretty good artist, aren't 'ya, Tanner?" Alexander shot his friend a grin and the blond chuckled.

"I almost thought about buying lead paint. You're lucky I didn't, Weller."

Blaine felt sick, his imagination limited to the possibilities that the three juniors could do to him with paint. A quick moment later he felt someone behind him, clutching tightly at his arms as if to stop him from moving, and it worked effectively in halting any movements Blaine would have tried to make.

"Hmm, what should I write?" Alexander's eyes ran slowly across him, and Blaine shivered, not knowing whether it was from the cold or the heat of the other's eyes.

"Getting turned on, faggot?" Peter growled harshly into his ear, tightening his grip on Blaine's arms and the smaller teen winced, a whimper escaping from his throat. "Figures you'd like stuff like this, freak."

"Now, now." A smirk appeared on Alexander's face and Blaine suddenly felt cold liquid on his stomach. It felt unpleasant, as if someone had begun to pour a type of goo on him. "Let's get to business boys. I'm sure we're doing a community service by marking the fag as what he is, don't you think so?"

"We should get an award for it, eh?"

_What do you have against me? It's not just because I'm gay, is it?_ The thoughts ran wildly through Blaine's head, and he wished his voice (and a bit of bravery) would come so that he could speak, but he was scared. That was normal though, right? He didn't think they would go as far as to physically hurt him, but this was definitely bad enough.

Almost like clockwork Tanner and Alexander began to 'work'. Blaine stayed still, grimacing only at the cold-like goo. He saw no point in arguing, in resisting what they were doing. Really, why should he? Next time it would probably only be worse and Blaine knew he would only take it again. Alexander and his friends—there was no way Blaine could fight them.

He barely registered the words that were being written, the small grunts of pain as he was forcefully shifted around, or even how much time passed. Maybe… maybe he deserved this. Blaine had brought it on himself after all, hadn't he? Not hiding or denying the fact he was gay in a public school in Ohio was definitely not the best way to spend his high school years. He idly wondered as he was shoved onto the ground face down if other schools were like this. How many other kids in this state, this country, or even this world have to go through similar things just because of who they were?

Somehow, it didn't seem fair.

"You know, Weller," Alexander quietly whispered into his ear, kneeling down next to him. "Nobody wants you here. Don't you get it? You're just a sorry excuse for a person. Fags and freaks like you don't deserve to even live." Blaine clenched his eyes shut at that, hating how hearing that from someone he didn't even care about got to him.

"So why don't you just go fucking kill yourself already? It'd do us all a favor if you were to disappear. I'm sure your family would be a lot better off without you as well. Who'd want you, a singing and dancing freak?"

Was that true? It probably was. His parents didn't even know, but Blaine knew that after they found out, well, they wouldn't want him. Blaine didn't really blame them for that though, how could he? He wouldn't want him either, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was gay.

He was just such a _coward_. Blaine couldn't even stand up for himself. He couldn't find a voice inside of him to talk back and he _hated _it. Why was he so helpless, so useless?

Why didn't anyone seem to care?

"You get the _fuck _away from him, Forgrove, or I promise I'll kill you before the police—who I've already called—even show up."

Blaine's eyes snapped open as he recognized the voice, quickly looking to the entrance of the alley. Now he was certain he was dreaming. Of course no one would help him, least of all _Taro Smith, _the person who probably hated him the most after Alexander Forgrove.

"Smith," Alexander spat, standing up straight as he glared dangerously at the boy about twenty feet away from him. "Fancy seeing you here. I would think you'd be thanking us. After all, don't you hate Weller here?"

Taro glanced at his former club-mate before shrugging, digging his hands into his jeans. "You're being noisy. Some of us actually have to _sleep_. Frankly, I don't care much for hearing him screaming in pain from getting beat up by the three of you, so next time, take your business elsewhere."

Blaine felt his heart sink a bit. _Of course_, he told himself bitterly. _Of course Taro Smith wouldn't help you out. Hell, he'd be more likely to join in with Forgrove on the taunting than anything._

"So get the fuck out of here before you're arrested for trespassing. I wasn't lying when I said I called the police. They should be here soon and unless you want to go to jail for not only that but also doing this to Weller, I'd suggest you scram, got it?"

"Tch," Alexander scoffed, nodding to Peter and Tanner. "Fine, but don't expect to get off so easy next time. Got it, Weller?"

Blaine said nothing as the three of them walked past, not stopping as they shot glares at Taro before continuing on out of the alley and to their truck. "Thanks…" Blaine whispered silently, crawling back over to his clothes, wincing at the cuts that had somehow made their way onto his hands without his notice.

"I already told you," the half-Japanese teen began, crossing his arms as he continued to stare at Blaine, almost as if he wasn't taking in the fact he was half naked and covered in crude words written in black hair dye. "I didn't do it for you. I was trying to sleep and they were being noisy."

"You live here?" Blaine blinked, not being able to help how his face scrunched up slightly at the thought and Taro glared, fists clenching.

"Yes, I do. Got a problem with it?"

"No," he answered quickly, figuring it wouldn't be good to get on the bad side of the person who just saved him. "No, of course not."

"Hm," Taro said, glancing over him. "You might want to clean up." Without another word, Taro turned on his heel, walking back in the direction he had come, leaving Blaine to only be able to glance down at him, not even a little bit surprised to see the words _'go die fag' _written across his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

_Happy belated-Thanksgiving to all my fellow Americans! I hope you had a good one and year is the next chapter! I'd really like to thank my wonderful beta—__**UchidaKarasu**__—and all you lovely readers and reviewers! Say, do you think we can get it up to 100 reviews on this chapter? I've never gotten100 reviews before! =) OH! And I have a new Klaine fic I'm working on… to see what it's about, go head on over to my profile and look under "Stories/Ideas" or something like that. I have a nice, long summary for it. _

**Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs.**

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Blaine stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, bag abandoned at his desk and his homework not even having been touched. Despite it being so warm in the house that it was almost uncomfortable, Blaine wore a long-sleeved shirt to hide the dye on his arms. He would hate to know what his parents would do if they see the words written on him.

This was definitely the worst that had happened, and Blaine didn't really know how to react to it. He was pissed off, he knew that much, but he was also a bit scared, if he admitted it. Should Blaine go to the teachers? It hadn't happened at school though, and even if it had, they probably would just say it was a harmless prank. He hadn't been physically hurt, so what was the big deal?

He scoffed slightly. That was exactly what each and every one of them would say and there was no getting around it. Blaine was gay; everyone knew it because he didn't try to deny it. What was the use? The bullying wouldn't end, not unless he suddenly 'decided' to be straight.

Lingering on that thought, Blaine turned over onto his side so that he was staring out the window opposite him. Could he decide to be straight? No, of course not, but Lesley had to at least be a little right. Blaine had never dated a girl _or_ a boy before, so maybe he should give Lesley a chance. How did he know for sure if he didn't at least kiss a girl once?

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what kissing Lesley would be like, but all he could see was a slight fog making it difficult to imagine anything. Blaine sighed, reopening his eyes and staring down at his hands lying next to his head. It didn't mean anything that he couldn't imagine it, right?

Blaine was certain he was gay and that nothing would change that, but it would just be so much _easier _to be straight, to like Lesley, to be able to proudly and officially introduce his friend as his girlfriend. His mom would probably squeal and clap her hands before grabbing Lesley excitedly, already planning a wedding for sometime in the future. His mother always had liked Lesley, after all.

He wasn't sure how his father would react. Probably the same as always, not saying much, but maybe he would crack a few jokes now and then. Despite his father not being the talkative one, he could be a big dork when he did talk.

Parker, on the other hand, probably wouldn't take this all too well. Then again, maybe he would. Blaine knew for a fact that _Parker _sometimes got teased for having a gay older brother, a guy even going so far as to crack a gay joke about Blaine while the whole family had been together not very long ago.

Blaine had had to physically restrain his twelve year old brother (which was actually a lot harder than it should be and Blaine cursed his 'hobbit' genes) from going over there and trying to knock the much larger boy to the ground for speaking like that.

His brother always had been the bad-tempered one of the two.

"Blaine?" Said boy shot up in his bed, annoyed at the sudden intrusion.

"Mom," he said, running a hand through his curly hair. "Haven't you heard of knocking?" Blaine knew he shouldn't speak like that to his mother, but he was in a _bad _mood and he just couldn't help it. He wanted to let off some of this frustration, but he tried to hold himself back. It would do no good to do that now; in fact, the questions he would surely get from his mother if he did would just increase the amount of stress he was under.

His mother had the decency to at least _try _to look ashamed as she strode into the room, moving over to sit on his bed. "Sometimes I forget you aren't a little kid anymore." Her voice was fond, but Blaine couldn't help but notice the fact that no 'sorry' was said.

Slowly , she sat down on the edge of the bed, straightening her skirt. "I just thought I would tell you that your grandparents—my parents as your dad's are somewhere in Europe at the moment—will be coming down tomorrow for Thanksgiving. Isn't that nice?"

"Thanksgiving?" Blaine questioned, a bit surprised. He had been so caught up over last month, that he hadn't even noticed it was drawing closer to Thanksgiving, and then eventually to the holidays.

"Yes, where have you been?" she said as she smiled, raising her hand to lightly pet Blaine's hair. "Been busy with school? Friends? A girlfriend maybe?" His mother's voice was hopeful, and Blaine swallowed tightly, feeling a bit sick.

"Y-yeah," he replied, grinned reluctantly. "I've been busy with school and stuff… and with my girlfriend." Blaine wanted to slap himself. Had he honestly just said that? He didn't have a girlfriend and he didn't _want _a girlfriend, let alone be _busy _with one.

A squeal broke from her lips and she raised her hands to cover her mouth happily, tears springing to her eyes. Blaine eyed her, wondering uneasily why he had seen a flash of something akin to relief.

"That's great, Blaine! Do I know this girl? Is it Lesley?" He nodded, so she continued, "How long has this been going on, and why didn't you tell me?"

"It's… it's a new development," he said slowly. Yes, definitely new as he hadn't even asked her, or _thought_ about asking her. "We've not been dating very long."

"You should invite her and her family for dinner tomorrow!" Hannah exclaimed suddenly. "Should we call them? I'll call them."

As she stood, Blaine quickly leaned forward, grabbing his mom's hand to stop her. "N-no, she and her family always go to Michigan or something for holidays. Family, I think." Blaine thanked God that this was actually true.

"Oh," she said, and blinked before smiling. "Well, that's okay. When she gets back you invite her over though, okay Blaine? I want to meet this girl properly."

"You've met her before though," he reminded her desperately, grasping at any small straws to get out of this.

"But only while she was your friend; this time, it'll be with her as your girlfriend."

Blaine gave a hesitant smile, dropping his hand. "R-right, girlfriend."

His mother giggled. "No need to be so nervous, Blaine! As you said, we've already met her and I approve of her immensely." With that, the woman nearly skipped from the room in happiness, leaving Blaine gaping after her, wondering what in the hell he had just done.

* * *

One of the first things he noticed when he came downstairs the next morning was that Parker seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, the twelve year old's features worked into a slightly angered look.

"Good morning," Blaine said, forcing a smile onto his face. His mother happily swopped over, placing a kiss on his cheek, and the curly-haired boy blinked. He never had seen his mother so… ecstatic.

"It is a wonderful morning, isn't it? I'm afraid its cereal this morning," she stated as Blaine sat himself at the table next to his brother. "I need to finish everything for dinner. Your grandparents will be here in a couple of hours as well."

"That's fine," Blaine told her, reaching for some toast, not feeling all that particularly hungry after what he had idiotically stated the night before. "Good morning Dad," His father gave a small noise of acknowledgement, not really being a morning person unlike his mother. "Parker, morning." He smiled easily down at his younger brother only to frown when he didn't get a response. "Parker?"

The twelve year old merely glanced at him before saying, "Pass the strawberry jam." Sighing, Blaine did so, waiting for him to say something else.

"Parker," George reprimanded his son, looking over the paper sternly at him and Parker grumbled, spreading jam harshly onto his own toast.

"Thanks…"

Blaine felt a lump in his throat at that. Why was his brother all of a sudden being so harsh? His relationship with the pre-teen was definitely one of the things that made him happiest, but suddenly Parker had turned so hostile towards him. Was it because he was getting those 'teenage hormones' that adults seemed to blame their kids' temper tantrums on?

Either way, it hurt, and he hadn't been prepared for how much it hurt.

The rest of the day up until dinner seemed to pass by smoothly. His mother was humming away in the kitchen with his grandmother while his father watched an old football game with his grandfather. Blaine tried to concentrate on it—after all, he liked college football—but found it rather difficult to enjoy as his mind spun with anything and everything.

Christmas was coming up, which meant Parker's birthday was coming up, not to mention New Years and the 2008 school year. He had to somehow get Lesley to date him after he had told her—in not so many words—that it was painfully idiotic to think that anything could _ever _happen between them. Blaine's head pounded, and he felt uncomfortably warm and almost dizzy, but he shook that off, forcing himself to focus on the game.

Thankfully, it was at that exact moment that his mother announced dinner and his father paused the game as they all stood, making their way to the dining room.

After a few minutes, and everyone was standing around the table, they joined hands for prayer—Parker reluctantly doing so.

Closing their eyes, they bowed their heads and his father began the prayer. "We would like to thank you, Father, for this meal and for letting us all come together in this time…" the prayer continued, Blaine listening closely to his father's words. He didn't feel either way about it, honestly, but that may have just been what had been going on lately.

Parker quickly dropped his hands once they had all said their "amen" and pulled out his seat, dropping down into it before filling his plate. Blaine moved slower, glancing over all of the delicious-looking food—a turkey stuffed full, the smell of rolls wafting from a basket, mashed potatoes, and so many other assortments that Blaine wondered how six people was supposed to eat all of it—but not feeling particularly hungry.

The expected gathering talk commenced, Blaine and Parker being the only ones who didn't contribute. Parker seemed to be concentrating on eating while Blaine let himself tune into the conversations, anything to distract himself from his own thoughts.

Everything seemed to be going so well, until his mother mentioned _that. _

"Oh yes, I have some news to tell you," Hannah had begun with a smile at Blaine and the teenager felt himself go cold. "Blaine has gotten himself a girlfriend!" she squealed, almost as loudly as she had the night before.

"A girlfriend?" His grandmother questioned in excitement. "Is it a good girl? A wholesome one? Brought up properly, yes?" Blaine felt himself nodding slightly, hands clenching over his knees. "Good, so she does go to church every Sunday and gets good grades, right? I wouldn't want my grandson dating someone no good for him after all!"

"Lesley is very nice, Mom." Hannah assured and Blaine's eyes closed, feeling suddenly sick.

"Lesley…" his grandfather began. "Is that the girl with the dirty-blonde hair? She's a witty one, that girl is, very sarcastic. I like her. I approve." The man chuckled. "She's very sweet. Good choice, Blaine." Blaine forced a quick smile to flicker briefly across his lips, rubbing his forehead, feeling a lot older than he was.

"They are absolutely perfect for each other. They've been friends for ages, you know, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a wedding in their future. I—"

The sound of silverware being slammed into table and a chair being pushed back interrupted their talk. Blaine's eyes snapped open just in time to see Parker turn the corner out of the dining room.

"What was that all about?" Hannah questioned no one in particular as George began standing, but Blaine beat him to it.

"No, I'll go talk to him. I need to anyways," he added quietly to himself, not waiting for a response before quickly heading for the stairs. The sound of music being blasted had him hesitating. Parker wasn't one for loud music unless he was seriously upset.

Hesitating, Blaine brought up a hand and knocked. Of course there was no response and Blaine thought it was more to the fact Parker was trying to ignore him then not actually being able to hear the knock.

He sighed, slowly reaching out and turning the knob, thankful that Parker had forgotten to lock his door. Blaine entered, taking in the sight of the room—so much messier than his, and his own room wasn't the cleanest either—before his eyes fell on his brother, sitting in the middle of his bed and staring down at his blankets.

"Parker…" Blaine began, only to be interrupted.

"You don't know how much I look up to you, do you?" Parker began quietly, but Blaine found it somehow easy to hear him against the loud music. It was almost as if his voice was floating across the room just for him to hear. "You have absolutely no idea what kind of things _I _go through at school for having a gay brother."

Forcing himself to relax his grip on the door knob, Blaine slowly shut the door, walking a bit further into the room and waiting for Parker to continue.

"It's fine, I guess. I'm used to it. Middle school is probably just as bad as high school, if not worse at times." Blaine frowned at that. Parker shouldn't be used to that, and Blaine couldn't help but feel as if it was his fault. Maybe it _was_ for the best to try and date Lesley. "And… I guess I'm not _just _used to it." Finally, Parker looked up at him. "In fact, I welcome it, because you're _my _brother. My big brother and Blaine, you are the best big brother ever."

Parker's eyes were glassy-looking and tears sprung to Blaine's own eyes, his throat clenching tightly and making it difficult to breathe. "I may be only twelve, but I'm old enough to understand some things and I've always found you so _brave, _ever since I was little. When they tease me about having you as a brother, all I do is grin and say 'yup, that's my brother'. I'm proud to have you as a brother, Blaine. So I don't understand what's going on! Are you really dating Lesley?"

Blaine frowned, hesitating. "Parker, it's complicated. You wouldn't underst—"

"Don't _say _I won't understand!" Parker glared harshly, face red with anger. "Everyone _always _says that to me. 'You're too young Parker, you can't possibly understand.' 'It's an adult situation, Parker. Maybe when you're older.' I'm _sick _of it! I may only be twelve but you're only fifteen, Blaine! You're not much older than me and what would you understand about _me_, huh?" His voice rose as he stood from his bed, and Blaine was shocked to hear it begin to overpower the loud music.

"You don't know anything about me! Where were you when Heath Roberson pushed me into the pool when he _knew _I didn't know how to swim? What were you doing every time someone tripped me and I nearly broke my wrist?"

Blaine blinked, feeling utterly confused. "When did that—"

"See!" Parker's jaw quivered slightly, voice shaking. "I was right… you don't notice what I go through. You think you're the only one who gets it bad! I know what Emily's brother does to you, but do you honestly think that there aren't other people who have it even _worse_? And I'm not talking about myself, but there are plenty of people at your own school I bet who are probably contemplating things that adults don't think someone as young as me should even know about."

"Parker, are you—"

"No!" Parker growled impatiently, looking as if he wanted to stomp his foot. "You aren't even _listening_ to me, are you? I'm _fine_, Blaine; I just wish you would notice your only brother a little bit more for a change!"

It felt silent almost at once as soon as he said that, the loud music seeming as if it was on mute to Blaine's ears. Blaine felt that bitter sting at the back of his throat, Parker huffing from his rant. "Parker…" he began, taking a step brother, halting when his twelve year old brother took a step back.

"Get out, Blaine," he told him quietly, staring into Blaine's eeys. "I understand enough of what you're doing and I'm really disappointed in you. I love everything about you and I admired you for how brave you were." Blaine didn't fail to notice the past tense. "But this? Blaine, lately you haven't seemed like my big brother to me anymore."

It took all of his energy for Blaine not to break down right there, but Blaine knew he had to do this. All he really wanted was for it to all just _stop_. Really, was that so much to ask?


	7. Chapter 7

_Here is the next chapter and I would like to thank ALL of you for reviewing. I've never hit the 100 review mark before and it means a lot that so many people like my story to leave a review! And a special thanks to my beta _**UchidaKarasu **_for his wonderful editing skills. Now, onto the chapter. And poor Blaine! _

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and my OCs.**

_**PS:**__ GO WATH '__**Baby, It's Cold Outside'**__! IT IS SO TOTALLY AWESOME! Oh my Rowling, they're getting their FLIRT ON! –shamelessly says like the guy from __**Take the Lead**__-_

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He had to do this. There was no way Blaine could back out now, not after he had told his whole family about his non-existent girlfriend Lesley. Blaine watched her from across the hall as she rummaged through her locker, looking for something. Every few seconds or so she would sigh and flip her blonde hair, tucking it behind her ear with her multi-colored nails.

Blaine sighed almost wistfully, envious at how _free _she was to be herself. Just a few years ago he as well had felt so _free_. Of course, he had been bullied even then, but it had mostly been 'harmless teasing' and he had been able to push it aside with a joke and a grin—only slightly forced—as he talked to Lesley about their favorite singers and movies.

Joking and acting like a complete and utter dork really was something he enjoyed doing. Yet lately it felt so inappropriate to laugh while all he could think about was Forgrove and his cronies with hair dye as they painted him as if he were a nice, black flag for their _worthy _cause of scaring all homosexuals away.

"Weller, move; you're standing in front of my locker and I kinda need to get inside of there, kay? Thanks," Taro Smith demanded, pushing him away without even waiting for a response as he spun his locker combination on the lock.

"Sorry," Blaine murmured, glancing at Taro before looking back across the hall to see Lesley shutting her locker and hurrying to her next class. His hazel eyes followed her and he hesitated, wondering if _this _was the time to do it, but something held him back. It was a sick feeling in his stomach and he leaned his head back against the cool metal of the locker behind him, telling himself _no, this wasn't the right time._

"You aren't turning straight now, are you?" Taro questioned, and in Blaine's mind he could practically see the older male raising an eyebrow, not really all that curious looking. "You know, it's people like you who give our community a bad name."

Blaine's eyes snapped open at that, the words lingering in his mind as he turned towards the junior. "Wait, what? _Our _community?" he asked, feeling as if he was missing something.

Taro merely rolled his eyes, closing his locker. "She misses you, don't see why, really." He told him, scowling as he brushed a strand of dark hair from his eyes. "Lesley," Taro clarified at Blaine's look of confusion. "She misses you. Honestly, I think Glee Club is a lot better off without you, Weller. You only brought us a lot of trouble because you don't know how to… _downplay _things." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, tossing his bag his left. "Whatever, not like I really care."

"Thank you," Blaine told him suddenly, surprising even himself as well as Taro if by the quick flash of shock that crossed over his face said anything. "You are probably the only person that treated me the same before you even found out." He gave a slightly bitter laugh as he said, "It's funny how I'm thankful for that."

"Yeah, well, if I'm not one thing, it's a hypocrite. Has Forgrove been bothering you lately?" he continued before Blaine even got the chance to ask what he had meant by "hypocrite".

"We've been on break," Blaine answered. "He hasn't had much of a chance to harass me yet."

"Hm…" Taro hummed lightly, stepping in front of Blaine, not looking at him as he said, "Good, he's probably all a bunch of talk and no action anyway. See ya, Weller." He lifted a hand quickly before pushing it into his pocket and starting off, Blaine looking at his back in confusion.

Had he and _Taro Smith_—the person who hated him most second only to Alexander Forgrove—just have a pleasant conversation? More like sort of pleasant, but it was as pleasant as they had ever had, at least.

Blaine was confused though. Some of the things he had said—could they have possibly hinted at what he thought they did, or was he reading too much into it? '_Our _community'? '_Hypocrite_'? Then again, he could have just meant the school as 'community', and by 'hypocrite'… well, Blaine didn't really know what that could have meant.

Suddenly, he found himself pinned to the locker, hissing in pain as a lock dug into his ribcage. He really should have known better than to let his guard down.

"How was your break, fag?" Alexander questioned almost conversationally, as if he were asking about something as boring as the weather.

Blaine let his eyes close, a bitter smile on his face. "It was fine, Forgrove, thanks for asking." There wasn't much use in fighting against him; Blaine had learned that a long while ago. If he even tried, he'd just find another bruise to add to his wonderful collection—then again, Forgrove was usually pretty good at being careful not to bruise him.

There was a second pause and Blaine thought that maybe he was looking around to make sure no teachers were anywhere within seeing distance. "Listen here, Weller, because of that fucking Jap—" Blaine's eyes narrowed at that. He and Taro were not even anywhere close to being friends, but that didn't mean Forgrove could be so rude when talking about Taro in front of him. "—I didn't get to finish my little game with you. So I'll make you a deal."

Blaine frowned slightly, turning to look up into Alexander's eyes, a small smirk on the older teen's face. "If you come to the baseball field by four-thirty, I won't do anything _too _harsh, but if you don't… you will be getting something so hurtful, so painful that you would wish Smith never showed up that night." His voice was quiet, almost non-threatening, but somehow this made Blaine want to freeze in terror. There was something behind his words, a certain something that hinted, maybe, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

"What… Forgrove, what is it about me—people like me—that you hate so much you have to try to ruin every bit of our lives?" he asked quietly, looking at the locker in front of him. This was a question Blaine had always wanted to ask. _Why_? Was there even a reason for all of this hate?

A thick silence fell between the two of them and Blaine's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced up, taken aback by the furious glare on Forgrove's face. He had seen such glares before, but there was something _different _about this one. On one hand, Blaine was sure that in that moment Alexander could probably _kill _him without a second thought, but then on the other, there was something so utterly _sad _about his glare.

"Why…" the teenager cut himself off, clenching his jaw shut tightly and slamming his hand into the locker beside Blaine's head, the dark haired boy flinching away, warily eyeing the hand. "Why do I need an excuse to hate something as disgusting as you, Weller?" Alexander's voice was still barely above a frightening whisper and it knocked out all breath Blaine had in his lungs. "You make sick, just the thought of it. Every single fag in this world should just rot in hell, and this ain't got nothing to do with some stupid Bible, if that's what you're thinking." He interrupted as Blaine went to say something and Blaine's mouth snapped shut.

"Heh," Alexander continued, not even trying to bring himself to smirk, so it seemed. "You were thinking it. I don't care about some supposedly Holy Book. What the fuck ever. I just hate you and everyone else like you." He growled as he stepped closer to Blaine, backing him further into the locker. "Sick, you're like some type of plague, I swear. People like you ruin things. So starved for attention are you that you have to whine 'oh poor me, look at me, this guy is being mean to me for something _I brought on myself_'.

"Don't be gay if you don't want to be bullied, and don't tell me it isn't a fucking choice." The halls were now completely empty, the bell having rung a few minutes before. Blaine pressed himself closer to the locker, trying to stay as far away as the crazed teen in front of him. "It's a choice, I don't care what you people say! You don't have to be gay, you don't have to ruin things, families a-and—shit," Alexander cursed, clenching his eyes shut and Blaine was almost horrified to see him take in a deep, shuddering breath.

It was strange to see that Alexander Forgrove had emotions other than hate and anger. Blaine didn't know what was going on with the person in front of him, but a part of him felt strangely pitying.

The hand slammed down next to him and Blaine flinched once again as he found himself looking up into angry blue eyes, dark-blond hair falling in front of them. "Be there Weller or I swear to fucking _God _you'll regret it for the rest of your fucking life and when you least expect it, it'll happen." His smirk was back and Blaine felt a shiver of terror shoot down his spine. "I know what hits close to home with you, because I actually _know_ you…" he told him as he leaned closer, pushing his lips close to Blaine's ear. The sophomore felt himself pale. "Your family doesn't know you're gay, do they? Also, from what I understand, they're quite the devout Christians—at least your mother is. I wonder how she would take the fact that one of her sons is a fag. Hmph."

Without another word Alexander pulled back, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he began to saunter off, tossing a smirk in Blaine's direction before turning a corner.

Blaine leaned heavily against the locker, feeling his legs go weak as he slid down to the cool, tiled floor, shoulders shaking slightly. No… Forgrove wouldn't do that, would he? Well, he probably would, but Blaine didn't want to believe that. He wasn't ready for that, but he probably wouldn't ever be ready for that.

He felt a choked sob escape from him and was horrified at the sound. For so long he had been able to hold it back, and now suddenly he felt wet tracks of tears on his cheeks, cold from the chilled hallways.

Blaine clenched at his curly hair, burying his head into his knees. Whispers of "_no_" escaped from his lips every few seconds and he tried to control his sobbing as to not alert the classes nearest him.

It was so _embarrassing_. There he was sitting against a locker, sobbing uncontrollably because some guy was being mean to him. At least, that's what it felt like. He knew it wasn't just a case of crayon-stealing during day-care, it was so much more serious, but he felt stupid and horrified.

At the moment, all he really wanted was to disappear, but he could be stronger than that. He had to be. Blaine didn't want to take the coward's way out.


	8. Chapter 8

_Okay, here is your next chapter! And wow, Kurt is in love with Blaine! That makes me __**so **__happy. But now we have to wait for the February. Thankfully, there will be the Sunday—Super Bowl—episode and then we get another that Tuesday that is hinted to be Dalton-centric. Are you excited? I'M excited! But I won't say any more than that. _

_Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, I love you, and a thankful to my beta—_**UchidaKarasu**_—for editing this chapter and I do NOT mind the unprofessionalism! I can't say that enough with you! –laughs-_

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, because then I'd make **_**sure **_**that Blaine and Kurt got together. But the overall story wouldn't be as good.**

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Lightly biting at his lip, Blaine wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, hoisted his bag over his left shoulder, and quickly started towards Lesley who was making her way out of the school.

School had ended mere minutes before, but Blaine was only just finding the time to ask her out—or rather, he was just finding the courage to do so. Blaine didn't want to date Lesley, but he had to; it was for the best. Because of this plus the fact that Lesley was his best—only, really—friend, it took him a lot of courage to ask.

Blaine was convinced that courage was something he really lacked.

"Lesley!" he called, jogging slightly to catch up with the girl who was just reaching her mother's car.

The girl spun around at the sound of her name, blonde hair whipping around her face. "Blaine," Lesley began lightly, her voice showing her surprise. "What is it?"

Blaine sighed at the sound of the stiffness in her voice. It was as if she were pretending nothing was wrong, and her friend _hadn't _just spoke to her for the first time in weeks. He knew her too well to fall for that though.

"I need to talk to you, Lesley. Do you think your mom would mind waiting for a few minutes?" Blaine questioned, straightening his posture, idly noticing that Lesley was about half an inch taller. He blamed his mother for the short gene.

"You couldn't have called?" Lesley replied, brushing a strand of hair away from blue eyes.

Blaine hesitated for a moment before saying, "This kind of needs to be said in person. It's okay if you have to leave though. I can ask you some other time."

He quickly turned around, moving to walk away as he felt his resolve waver. Truthfully, Blaine was a little bit relieved that he could get away with not going through with this because maybe Lesley didn't want to talk to him. He could always just tell his parents that he and Lesley had decided they would rather be friends, right?

"Wait! What were you going to say? Is it important?" Or maybe he _couldn't _get away with not asking…

The teenager stumbled slightly as he paused mid-step. Catching his footing, Blaine spun back towards Lesley to see her dropping her bag into the passenger seat of her mom's car.

"I'm going to go talk to Blaine. Be back in a few minutes," she told the woman yelling into her phone, which was a normal occurrence.

Blaine led his friend away from the parking lot and back towards the school, which was now emptying rather quickly as teens climbed into cars or buses. Lesley leaned back against the brick wall, hands buried in her sweater to keep them warm.

Not looking up from the ground, Blaine shifted uncomfortably, feeling odd with the girl's gaze on him. "Lesley, you know that… _thing _we talked about a few weeks ago in class?"

There was a moment of silence before she said hastily. "Yeah, I know which 'thing' you're talking about, and Blaine, I want to say that I'm sor—"

"No, don't." _Please don't! _he thought to himself. Should Lesley take back what she had said, Blaine just _knew _he wouldn't be able to go through with this. "Y-you were right." He clenched his eyes shut, feeling sick at saying this, agreeing with someone that he was just confused. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he wanted to take them back, to deny that they were true, so that he could be _himself_.

"Eh?"

Blaine gave a small, inward scoff. Of course the girl was rendered speechless. He had done nothing short of blowing up on her for saying what she had. He had created a scene, and it had been talked about, but of course it had been talked about.

He forced his eyes open, staring at Lesley, wanting to look away as he continued. "You were right," he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest, somehow that making him feel as if there were a shield around him, keeping him safe. "I'm probably just confused. I can't possibly know if I don't at least _try_, right?"

Turning his eyes back towards the ground, a bitter smile forced its way onto his face, and Blaine gave a small, emotionless laugh. "I shouldn't have said any of that to you, Lesley. I was just angry and… confused, I guess."

"Bl-Blaine," Lesley stuttered, moving a step forward as she took Blaine's hand, and Blaine had to keep himself from wrenching his hand away. It just felt _wrong_ somehow. Her nails were too long, and the color on them was just a turn-off. "You—I shouldn't have said any of that to _you_. I was out of line; you don't have any reason to apologize. I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to be there for you."

His lips gave a weak attempt at a smile. "Lesley, can I ask you something?"

Smiling, Lesley nodded, her long hair bobbing around her head. "Of course. What is it, Blaine?"

"Will you go on a date with me on Saturday?" Blaine was surprised at how easy those words fell from his lips, especially when he had been so worried over it for so long. Although, they still tasted like bitter medicine. A medicine that was trying to cure an illness that just wasn't there.

The blonde beamed, quickly wrapping her arms around Blaine's neck. As she leaned into him, Blaine blinked, his arms slowly moving around her back. The two of them had hugged plenty of times before, but something just felt _different _about this hug.

"I'd love to go on a date with you," Lesley answered as she pulled back after what felt like forever, but Blaine was sure if that had been the case, he would have been dead and out of this situation.

Blaine forced another smile. "Th-that's great." But he didn't really mean that.

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Blaine hated Saturdays. At least, he hated _this _specific Saturday. He had known it probably wouldn't be the greatest date ever, but he felt even more awkward than how he had thought he would feel. Lesley though seemed to be enjoying it though, if by the way she laughed when some guy's head was blown into pieces said anything.

He couldn't even concentrate on the movie, which was a first. Normally he'd concentrate so much that he couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous background bloopers he caught.

Instead, his mind was focused on his hand that was being held tightly by Lesley's own hand, making his palm sweat uncomfortably and begin to ache. If he had a little sister or an annoying cousin that he had to look after, this was probably what it would feel like.

Although, he didn't like comparing Lesley to a younger sister or annoying cousin, but that was the way he saw it. Lesley was a lot more like a cousin to him than anything else besides his friend, so that just made this situation that much worse.

A few people screamed at something particularly 'scary', and Blaine leaned his head onto his free hand, closing his eyes. He felt Lesley's grip tighten slightly and winced as her nails dug into his skin as she leaned forward. "Blaine, are you feeling okay?"

He opened his eyes, peering over at her, and gave a small nod. "Yeah, I'm fine," Blaine lied with a tight smile on his face. "I just have a small headache." That wasn't really a lie though.

"I hope you're not getting sick." There was worry in her voice and Blaine had to smile a bit at his friend's concern for him.

"I'm not, Lesley. Let's just watch the movie."

Lesley gave a smile, grip loosening and Blaine inwardly thanked God for that. "Okay, Blaine," she replied as she turned back to the screen, chuckling slightly at another 'scary' part.

Blaine was a bit thankful for the fact that Lesley didn't get scared easily. He didn't know if he could handle it if she had been one of those girls who clutched onto their dates while watching horror films.

Once the movie had ended, the two teenagers made their way outside to wait in the chilly night air for their rides. Lesley was chattering on about the gory graphics and how she couldn't believe the movie hadn't been rated R. Blaine just nodded as she spoke, agreeing with everything she was saying. He didn't remember the blonde being so _talkative_.

Suddenly, it fell silent and Blaine looked over at Lesley to see her cheeks a bit red from the cold air, shivering despite her warm jacket. "I had a nice time tonight, Blaine," she began quietly, inching a bit closer, and Blaine suddenly wondered just _what _she wanted him to do as she peered at him beneath her lashes.

"Uh, yeah… I had fun too, Lesley." Okay, that was exaggerating a bi—lot. It was exaggerating a lot, but Lesley was his friend, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Lesley's face lit up and she stepped even closer, barely a foot away and Blaine suddenly found it really hot and very uncomfortable. The teenager glanced around, wondering if there was a way out of this but he suddenly felt lips on his and there _was _no way out of this.

When Blaine didn't automatically push Lesley away, the girl seemed to take that as a 'go ahead' and stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pushed her lips a little bit harder against his and Blaine blinked, conflicted thoughts rushing through his mind. This… wasn't right, but he closed his eyes anyway and tried to kiss back, feeling sick to his stomach as he did so.

Her lips were too sticky and they tasted like grape. Blaine hated grape flavoring. His hands just stayed mid-way in the air awkwardly, not knowing exactly what he was supposed to do with them before finally deciding to place them on her hips. This didn't make anything less awkward thought; in fact, they seemed to make things even _more _awkward, because all he wanted to do was push Lesley away and spit out the grape flavor he now had in his mouth.

Lesley had too many curves. There was too much excess fat on her, and that sounded mean, but there _was _and he didn't like it. She should be, well _flatter_ and her hips shouldn't be as large and waist as small. There should be maybe a bit more muscle, something a little bit harder beneath his skin and not so squishy. It was just all _wrong. _

A honk interrupted them and Lesley pulled away, turning to see her mother waving at them with a look on her face. Blaine had to forcefully stop a relieved expression from rising to his face. He really had never been more thankful for an interruption.

"I've got to go," Lesley began, almost regretfully. "But call me tomorrow when you and your family get back from church, okay?"

Blaine quickly nodded, eager to get away from his friend. "Yes, of course. I'll talk to you later, Lesley. Bye."

Lesley beamed, her face now a darker red, and she seemed a little breathless. "Bye, Blaine." She hesitated a moment before quickly leaning in and pecking him on the lips. Blaine kept his lips tightly closed, holding back the urge to shudder as she pulled away and giggled. She walked away, tossing glances and smiles back at him over her shoulder as she did so.

When Lesley and her mom were no longer in sight, Blaine quickly turned to the garbage can a few feet away from him and spat into the trash to try and get the taste of grape and Lesley out of his mouth.

Blaine didn't know how he was supposed to pretend to date Lesley if he could barely kiss her for more than thirty seconds—which, in his defense, felt more like hours than just a few seconds. Yet this was something he _had _to do. He just _had _to.


	9. Chapter 9

_Here is the next chapter! We get the ball rolling so to say! I want to thank everyone who reviewed and also those who didn't review. You are all __**totally awesome**__! I would also like to thank my beta—_**UchidaKarasu**_—for his input as always and I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Glee.**

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"So, how was it?" was the question that greeted him as he climbed into his mother's car. Blaine glanced at her, seeing a knowing smile on her face, and inwardly sighed. Of course his mother had seen them. He really shouldn't have expected anything else.

"It was fine," he answered quietly, buckling himself up as his mom began to pull out of the parking lot. _Fine_ meant so many things to him. It had been okay, boring, and awful all at the same time.

The worst part wasn't even that he had kissed a girl—though he hoped the next person he would be kissing was a boy (he somehow doubted that though). What he had hated most of all was how being on that date made him _feel. _It made him feel gross, and he wished he could say it was because girls just weren't _right _to him. In reality, it was kind of that fact, but mostly it was that he _knew _he didn't like girls; he had come to terms with that long ago, had accepted it, but here he was falling down the stairs.

He was going backwards, and wasn't he supposed to be moving forward?

Blaine felt disgusted with _himself _and no one else. He hated that he couldn't find courage somewhere inside of himself to be true to who he was. Sometimes he felt a lot older than fifteen because what type of fifteen year old thought like this?

That was another thing. Blaine felt lonely. He couldn't possibly be the only person going through this, but that's what it felt like—like he was _alone_ and no one cared that maybe he wanted someone to reach out a hand to him. They were all caught up in their own superficial drama that they couldn't see that there were people who had it _worse _than them.

Maybe Blaine was being selfish, but didn't he have that right to be selfish? He was trying to change himself for everybody around him, and maybe he tried to think as if it was for himself as well, but it just _wasn't_.

"Only fine?" his mother asked, glancing at him and Blaine turned his head, looking out of the passenger seat window.

"It was nice," Blaine continued with a barely audible sigh. "Lesley is nice. I had fun." He gave a small, forced smile, hoping that it didn't come out looking more like a grimace.

"You should see if she wants to go to church tomorrow. I don't think her family goes, right?"

Blaine shook his head slightly, brushing curls away from his face. "No, her parents are both usually too busy and Lesley doesn't have a way to get there. I think she has plans tomorrow anyway," He lied, looking back out of the window as he wiped his palms on his jeans. A question was forming in the back of his mind; he had yet to figure out what it was, but it was somehow making him nervous.

Hannah gave a _'tsk'_ in disappointment. "Shame, everyone can do with a bit of God in their lives, isn't that right, Blaine?"

He nodded like the good son he tried to be. "Mom," he began, not even knowing what he was going to say. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Blaine," Hannah said, giving him an amused smile. "You don't need to ask to ask questions you know. Asking questions is how people learn things." She stopped at a red light.

Taking in a deep breath, Blaine quickly asked his question before he lost his nerve: "Mom, what do you think of homosexuality?"

Blaine heard her taking in a sharp breath as she lost her smile, hands tightening over the wheel. He was suddenly thankful he had asked this at a red light, almost certain his mother would have crashed had he asked while they were driving.

"Why would you want to know something like that?" her voice was stiff, cold and Blaine automatically regretted asking.

"Th-there's this kid in my class who's gay," Blaine began, hands trembling in his lap and he looked away from his mother. "And he's bullied _all of the time_. No one does anything about it, not even the teachers. I think he's gone to them before and they just brush him off, saying there's nothing they can do about it," he forced out, clenching his eyes shut to fight off the tears welling up behind them. "There is this one guy in particular that seems to go out of his way to make his life a living hell, even going as far as threatening to expose him to his family—so I've heard," Blaine added quickly, taking in a shuddering breath.

"I just… I'm just not sure what to do. No one else does anything and I feel horrible. Why won't anyone help him? What did he do to deserve being treated like that? Because he likes guys? I hardly think that's a good excuse…" he finished, frightened as he waited for his mother's response.

The only thing going through his head was _'Please respond kindly! I don't think I could handle it if you think I deserve this Mom…'. _

After a moment, she said, "There is nothing you can do Blaine. This kid—whoever he is—brought this on himself for going against God's Word." Blaine was sure that all the oxygen was sucked out of the atmosphere through a vacuum. "Homosexuality is a sin and while I don't think making another person's life miserable is at all like that of a good Christian, it is best to not get involved period."

"R-right," he choked out. Blaine quickly pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, turning to face the window so his mother couldn't see his face as tears finally leaked from his eyes.

"I'm so glad you aren't gay, Blaine. You have a lovely girlfriend and that's good. Being gay is such an idiotic lifestyle to choose. Why would guys choose something like that? Girls too for that matter! I will never understand it. If my brother had turned out to be gay, our mother would have died from heartbreak, I'm sure of it, and our father… well he would not have been kind, that's for sure."

Blaine tried to tune her out, but it felt as if his mother's voice was freight train and he was standing merely twenty feet away from it as it came towards him. It was just getting louder and louder, pounding in his ears.

He felt sick and at the moment all he wanted to do was sleep the feeling off.

* * *

Blaine looked around the area nervously, shivering from the cold. He couldn't believe he was doing this—or how he had even remembered the street sign from weeks before—but he had been the only one who knew. He was the only one who could bring the guy his homework.

The place definitely wasn't as frightening as it had been during that night. Maybe it was the fact he wasn't being forced into an alley and stripped down to his underwear, but either way he wasn't as scared to be there. It was still just as disgusting though. Maybe more so as he could see every bit of grime that covered the area.

There were people in little clothing despite it being cold enough to snow. Children were still crying and being reprimanded by their annoyed mothers as they were pushed into their small apartments. Men (and women) who looked all too similar to the one that had been pushed away _that _night were everywhere. It seemed this was a place for them to go.

It suddenly hit him as if it were a piano falling onto him from the sky—Taro _lived _here.

"Excuse me!" he called as a short, slightly chubby Hispanic woman passed, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. It looked as if she was getting ready to leave for work.

She sighed in annoyance, looking at Blaine in slight suspicion. "What is it and who is asking?"

"Can you tell me where Taro Smith lives?" Blaine asked after walking up to her, his breath freezing as it hit the air. "I'm a classmate of his."

The woman raised an eyebrow before snorting. "Taro Smith? You mean the whore's son? Well, like mother like son!" Blaine's eyebrows rose up drastically at that. "That good-for-nothing boy is always getting into trouble. I'm surprised he's not dead yet. Well, it's only a matter of time anyway."

"Can you tell me what apartment he is in?" Blaine questioned. His voice was a little bit cold. He felt oddly defensive of his classmate for reasons unknown. Maybe it was the fact that Taro _had _saved him from Forgrove and his friends that day? Whatever the reason was, Blaine did not like the way this woman was talking about him when she probably didn't even know him that well.

Not that Blaine knew him that well either.

"Hmph, floor two, apartment thirty-two. Be careful of any needles you might step on." With that last comment, the woman walked off, pushing her arms into her large jacket.

With a sigh, Blaine adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started towards the stairs, avoiding eye contact with a woman smiling seductively at him.

Reaching the apartment, he eyed the number thirty-two before glancing around, sirens sounding loudly a few blocks away. He shouldn't have felt so nervous about merely bringing homework to Taro, but he did, and he didn't know why.

Taking in a deep breath, Blaine raised his hand and knocked.

After a few moments and still no response, Blaine knocked again, louder this time, and almost immediately the door opened, a haggard-looking Taro standing in front of him.

"Weller?" Taro questioned blearily with a large yawn, running a hand through his dark, mussed hair. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Homework," he cursed the slight squeak in his voice as he said this, but Taro was standing there in only jeans and… Taro had a rather nice body. Blaine blushed. "We have an English report and it's due Friday and today is Tuesday and I was the only one who knew where you lived—somehow I remembered where you lived—so I got saddled with the duty of bringing your homework, but you know, I don't really mind, I didn't have anything to do today anyway and—"

Taro interrupted his rambling. "Just… get in here Weller." Taro opened the door wider, starting back inside and Blaine quickly walked in, shutting it behind him. He was thankful to step out of the cold at least for a few minutes and it _was _slightly warmer inside, but only slightly. Blaine figured these apartments didn't have the best heating or air conditioning.

"Mom," Taro began speaking to a woman lying on the couch, arm thrown over her head. In her other hand there was a bottle of some type of alcoholic substance and Blaine tried to ignore just how _little _this woman was wearing. "Me and a friend will be in my room. Call if you need anything, kay?"

The woman just groaned, waving the two off, and Taro walked towards a closed door. Blaine followed, figuring it was the other's room. This room was a lot neater than what he had seen (which was an absolute mess now that Blaine thought of it). The sheets of the bed were nearly thrown off of the bed, but he figured that was because Taro had just woken up. At least, it seemed like Taro had just woken up.

"So, this homework?" Taro asked after collapsing onto his bed, and Blaine quickly dug through his back pack, pulling out an envelope and handing it to him. Taro tossed it aside without looking at it. "Is that all?"

"Uh, yeah, that's all." Blaine frowned slightly, turning to leave only to hear the bed creak and feel a hand grasp around his wrist. His head jerked down, blinking in slight shock as Taro stared up at him.

"I don't recall saying you had to leave." Taro stated quietly, letting go of his wrist and sitting back against the wall behind his bed. "Sit," his said, his command light, but there all the same and Blaine found himself sitting a moment later. "Did you ask her?"

Blaine blinked at the sudden question, shifting uncomfortably for some reason. "Lesley?" Taro gave a small nod. "Yeah… we went out Saturday."

"I see. How was it?"

"It was… fine." Blaine answered, remembering his talk with his mother before frowning and shaking his head. "No, it was horrible. I felt sick being on that date with her and not because we kissed. That had nothing to do with it, although her lip-gloss flavor of choice was gross. I hate grape."

Taro gave a small chuckle. "I'd be worried if you enjoyed it. You're gay and you're trying to pretend as though you're not. _That _is why you felt sick."

Blaine eyed him, wondering why his palms were beginning to sweat as he stared at the boy across from him. He felt nervous and a different kind of sick-to-the-stomach. It was actually a bit pleasant. "And you know that how, exactly?"

The half-Japanese boy raised his arms above his head, stretching, his lips twitching into a small grin. "I'm not gay, if that's what you're thinking. I'm bisexual. There _is _a difference." Taro gave a small wink and Blaine's cheeks flared up.

"Right, so _that's _what you meant by 'our community'…" Blaine realized and Taro nodded, peering up at Blaine, a spark of _something _in his eyes. He couldn't quite tell what it was exactly.

"Yup, hey, has Forgrove bothered you any more lately?" Taro questioned, and Blaine blinked at the suddenness of it all, giving a quiet affirmative. "I see." There was an almost thoughtful sound to his voice.

Blaine stared at him for a moment, hands clenching on the small bit of comforter he sat on. "I don't get it. I mean, ugh, what is his deal?" He could feel himself shaking. His anger was rising inside of him at the mere thought of what Alexander had threatened, but maybe it was mostly the fact he was scared of him making good on his threat. "Why exactly does he hate me so much? Why does he hate homosexuality in general so much?"

"His dad," Taro responded without a beat. "That's why he hates it so much; because of his dad."

"His dad?" Blaine repeated, a confused expression on his face. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Heh." Taro's lips twitched as he inched closer to Blaine, their legs brushing each other's slightly. Blaine fought black a small blush. "Actually, it does. His dad left his mom for another man. It absolutely ruined his family. It was sudden as well; no one saw it coming, so I've heard. Honestly, I can't really blame Forgrove. I'm not saying it's a good reason—" Taro continued when Blaine went to open his mouth to interrupt. "—of course it isn't. There never is a good reason for hate. Yet I understand why he _does_. In his mind he's doing this and protecting other families from being ruined. He doesn't want what happened to his family to happen to others.

"It neither makes sense nor does it actually help at all. This as well ruins families. Hate ruins everything, but that's the thing about this world. You can't have love without hate; it goes hand-in-hand. World peace honestly makes me laugh. People who believe this world will one day get it are fooling themselves," Taro finished, breathing slightly heavier from his rant and Blaine stared across at him, a little bit taken aback.

Taro believed all of that? Although, it seemed as if he had a bit of a point. What Blaine found oddest though was the fact he felt like leaning sideways and closing that short distance between the two of them.

"Taro!" a woman's voice called sounding tired and dry, and she slurred something in a language Blaine didn't understand, and it caught him off guard as Taro called something back in Japanese as he walked over to the door.

Turning back to Blaine, Taro told him, "I'll be right back. My mom wants some water and of course she can't get it herself. Stay here a minute, kay?"

"Kay." Blaine nodded and Taro gave a small, uncharacteristic smile before walking from the room. Blaine couldn't help but let his eyes travel down and—no, he looked away, face burning. He was not going to let himself get a crush on someone who had seemed to hate him only a few weeks before.

Glancing around the room, Blaine saw a small, over-crowded desk beneath the window, which was open just a crack. Looking back at the door, he heard Taro's voice come from the direction of the kitchen, muttering something about clean dishes and Blaine quickly stood, walking over to the desk.

He knew snooping was wrong, but he found himself curious about Taro. Taro seemed to know everything about everyone else (or he at least got that feeling when around him), but he didn't know _anything _about him other than his age, where he lived, his name, and his sexuality. Not really, anyway.

Picking a picture that was lying face down on the desk, Blaine looked at it, smiling slightly at the sight of a four year old boy beaming up at the camera. He was sitting on his knees atop the grass beneath a tree of pink flowers (the name of the specific type of tree escaped his mind at the moment), his mother's arms wrapped around him as she grinned at a man next to her who Blaine figured to be her husband—Taro's father.

This kid looked so carefree and in ways Blaine didn't think he was the same Taro that he himself knew. There was just no way that the smiling boy in the aging photograph was the same person as the one talking to his mother in annoyance just outside of the room.

Setting the picture down, he glanced across the desk before spying a small bag peeking out from an ash tray (Taro smoked?). Moving it slightly, Blaine took the small bag and held it up to his eyes. They widened slightly in recognition before it was suddenly jerked from his hands, and he spun around just in time to see Taro stuffing it into a pocket of his jeans.

"You didn't see anything." Taro said pointedly, his voice almost desperate for Blaine to go along with him.

Blaine wanted to press it. He wanted to ask Taro if that really _was _what he thought it was, but he didn't and instead gave a small nod. "Of course… I didn't see anything. I'm not even sure what you're talking about."

Taro gave a small, relieved sigh, eyes closing for a split second before popping open again. "Sorry about that, my mom spilled her water and I had to clean it up."

"It's fine," Blaine told him, walking over to the bed to get his bag. "I should get going anyway. It's getting late and I didn't tell my mom how long I would be gone, so she's probably getting worried."

"Right, that's fine. Let me walk you to the door." Taro lightly placed a hand on his back, leading him past his mom who was once again passed out on the couch and to the door. "I'll be going to school tomorrow, so I'll see you there?"

Blaine nodded, smiling slightly, a little bit happy at that fact. "Yeah, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

He turned, ready to leave, and then Taro said in a deep voice, "Blaine, wait." And suddenly lips crashed against his and his eyes widened, his breath leaving his lungs, but it was _good_. No, more than good; _great_.

Yet he didn't have much time to ponder on the feeling of the kiss before Taro pulled slightly back, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like "I'm sorry". Blaine figured he had imagined it.

"You should go," Taro told him, that same spark from earlier in his eyes.

"Right," he agreed, voice almost inaudible as he took a step back, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I should go." His stomach was churning nervously and it was something he hadn't really felt before. There had been small twinges of butterflies in his stomach when he saw a particularly good-looking male, but this was different. It was like an _onslaught _of them, and perhaps it was because he had just been kissed for the first time _by a male_.

Either way, he knew he definitely wanted to try it with Taro again.


	10. Chapter 10

_Okay, here is the next chapter. Sorry for the long wait! I literally couldn't concentrate enough to write this chapter until last night. –she wrote this whole chapter last night- You should thank my wonderful beta—_**UchidaKarasu**_—for getting the chapter back to me in only a few hours!_

_I have something to say after the chapter, but please __**do not look at the Author's Note at the bottom of the page until after you finish the chapter or else it will spoil the chapter for you**__._

_Happy New Years!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot and my OCs.**

* * *

It was quite amazing that Blaine had managed to keep away from Forgrove for a complete week. Although, if he was being entirely honest with himself, he wasn't sure if that had more to do with his own effort (which included ducking into bathrooms, classrooms, and behind larger people than himself) or if it had more to do with the fact that Forgrove seemed to want to avoid him like the plague.

He didn't know whether he should be thankful or scared, truthfully. Blaine decided to settle somewhere in the middle. It was a blessing because that meant he didn't have to deal with insults at every break. He didn't have to deal with Forgrove saying "watch your back faggot", and that was nice for a change. Yet there was the threat of being outed to his parents that still lingered in the air, if not heavier than it had been.

Blaine wasn't an idiot. When he _did _run into Forgrove in the hall, he could see the older boy's smirk twitching at his lips, no matter how much Blaine wanted to pretend it wasn't there.

His outing was inevitable, he knew. He wanted to do it on his own terms, but after what his mother had said Blaine was a little bit hesitant. Maybe it was understandable why he was scared, but that didn't mean he didn't feel bad about leading Lesley on, especially after that kiss with Taro. That kiss—which had made him so confused for multiple reasons—only heightened the desire for courage so that he could just come out to his parents already and be free of the threat that Forgrove promised.

He had also thought a little bit more about that school which sounded like some type of safe-haven. Blaine liked the sound of that, but he also hated the fact that it was getting to the point where he felt he _needed _one.

Maybe he was being a little melodramatic. Surely there were people out there who had it worse than him, but it didn't feel as such. Blaine wouldn't wish this on anyone else, but at the moment he couldn't help thinking '_why me_'.

That was annoying though. Blaine really didn't enjoy feeling sorry for himself, and he didn't _want _to feel sorry for himself. Self-pity wasn't even on his list of acceptable pastimes.

"Hey," someone breathed out from behind him and Blaine glanced over his shoulder, lips twitching slightly as he shut his locker.

"Hey," Blaine greeted Taro back, feeling a little nervous flutter in his stomach. He averted his eyes ever so slightly, biting at his lip. "What's with the random hello?"

He saw Taro's lips widen into a grin and turned back to face him, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "I was thinking, when was the last time you had a break? You look exhausted, truthfully."

"Thanks," Blaine let sarcasm slip into his voice, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "I've only been busy revising my butt off for finals next week, frightened of what Forgrove is going to do next while his friends continuously play little pranks on me, plus I'm dating my best friend of practically my whole life who I have no feelings for, my mother is acting extremely awkward, my dad is still my dad who doesn't have a clue, and my brother hasn't talked to me since Thanksgiving, so yeah, I'm a little bit tired."

"Well," Taro began with only a small pause, a smile still on his face. "That's even more reason to take a break."

"From what?" Blaine questioned in confusion, blinking slightly. "I can't exactly take a break from life; that's a little bit impossible."

"Yes," Taro replied slowly, leaning forward as he whispered, "but you can get away from your problems for a little bit. I'm skipping, come with me." His voice was low and if Blaine's ears worked as well as they usually did, then he would say Taro's voice was just the tiniest bit husky as well.

Blaine flushed, skin heating, and he shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. "Skipping school, seriously? Taro, we have tests next week and revisions for both today and tomorrow. Plus, you weren't here for the first three days of the week. Don't you think it would be a bad idea to skip another day?"

Taro chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes dark and just a little bit glassy. "Oh come on, you can't tell me you've never even _thought _about skipping before. It's _high school _Blaine. You do know that there is a National Skip Day, right?"

Blaine's eyebrows shot up at that. "I'm guessing that's not today, though."

"Well, no, but the point is Blaine that everyone deserves a break from life now and again. So come with me. I promise you'll have fun—I'm guessing you're beginning to forget what fun is." Taro replied, staring at him as the halls began emptying. Blaine licked his lips, weighing his options in his head.

"I remember you in Junior High, Blaine." Taro continued, his voice the definition of persuasive. "You were so lively, so fun. Even with parents from old money, a nice upbringing, a large house with a white picket fence, you never let that control you. I have to admit I kind of envied that Blaine. Don't you want to visit him again? I promise I'll make it worth your while.

Blaine's heart was hammering in his chest, and he could almost feel the heat radiating from Taro's closeness inside of the cold hall. Wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, Blaine met Taro's eyes, giving a small nod of consent. "Sure, I guess I could use a small break, even if only for a few hours."

Taro's grin twitched slightly into what almost looked like a smirk and the older boy glanced around the hall, seeing that they were completely alone before holding out a tempting hand. Blaine looked down at it before smiling slightly, placing his own hand in Taro's for a minute before they let them drop, Taro placing the same hand on Blaine's arm.

Blaine had to wonder why he felt as if he had just made a deal with the devil and sold his soul.

* * *

"I can't believe you talked me into skipping." Blaine told him with a grin as they sat on a bus, the shaking of the vehicle causing their knees to bump and brush each other's. "I feel a little bit rebellious at the moment, actually."

"Good, that's good!" Taro exclaimed, turning away from the window to look at Blaine, leaning against him slightly. "That means you're a normal teenager, Blaine."

Blaine felt heat rise to his cheeks, but decided to ignore it. "Are you going to tell me where we're going or are you actually just kidnapping me and making it look like I skipped school?"

"Damn it," Taro cursed, snapping his fingers as he leaned back into the bus seat. "You caught me before I could even fulfill my plan! What am I going to do now, Weller?"

"Ah, I'm sorry! I can pretend I didn't catch you, is that okay?"

Taro grinned, nodding. "You better pretend. I can't have my hard efforts going to waste, now can I?" Blaine felt Taro's hand slip over his causing his breath to catch. Cheeks flaring up, Blaine gave a small cough, pulling his hand away.

"Sorry…"

"It's fine," Taro's voice was slightly annoyed, but Blaine decided to ignore that. "We're here anyway." The bus came to a stop at the bus stop and Taro stood, making his way past Blaine without another look at him. With a sigh, Blaine stood to follow him from the public transportation vehicle.

"The mall?" Blaine observed, a little bit surprised. He hadn't known what he had expected, but he really hadn't expected the mall. Taro seemed so much different from a normal teenager. Then again, Blaine was far from a normal teenager himself, so maybe he just got the two of them mixed up.

"Of course, where did you expect, Blaine? Some dungeon where I would secretly torture you until you _beg _me for mercy?" Taro suggested, laughing lightly.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but there were a few times in the past that I thought yes, maybe you did want to torture me." Blaine answered as he followed Taro towards the entrance of _Macy's_.

"Hmm, you know, sometimes I still _do_ want to do that." Taro glanced over his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips as his eyes glanced over Blaine, tongue peaking out ever so slightly.

Blaine flushed. He really didn't know what to say to that, but he did know that if his heart started to beat any faster, he was in danger of a heart attack. "A-ahh, is that so?"

Taro let out a bark of laughter, spinning around to face Blaine, causing the curly-haired boy to stop in his steps. "Sorry, that was totally out of line. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"N-no, of course you're not making me uncomfortable T-Taro. Why would you think that?" _Yes, yes you're making me terribly uncomfortable, Taro, but that's to be expected if you keep saying things like _that.

"Well, it just seemed…" Taro gave him a thoughtful before grabbing his hand and pulling him into the Mall. "Let's go play some _games, _maybe that'll make you feel more comfortable." Yet there was something about the way that Taro said that which in fact made Blaine even more uncomfortable.

**

* * *

**

"Oh _God_, how can you be so horrible at this?" Taro asked incredulously, laughing as he watched Blaine's car hit a cow, sending pieces of the animal flying over the screen's road. "You're supposed to _stay away _from the animals and fences, you know that, right?"

"Who says I'm not doing it on purpose?" He asked, wincing as he hit another cow standing in the middle of the road. It was the stupid animal's own fault for being in his way, anyway.

"Oh please," Taro scoffed, leaning against Blaine's seat. "As if you would kill those poor, innocent, fake game animals. I feel sorry for all the cars out on the road when you start driving. It's going to be a death trap."

"Just so you know," Blaine began as his car crashed, turning into a fiery pile of burning rubble. "I've driven my dad's car before. Fake cars are a lot more difficult to drive than actual cars." Blaine stood, expecting Taro to move away only to find that he had moved a little bit closer to him. He swallowed tightly, resting against the side of the plastic chair.

"Is that so? So young Mr. Weller knows how to drive. Do you know how to drive a stick?"

"No, I—" Taro laughed and Blaine flushed, eyes closing with a small, incredulous smile. "That's another sexual innuendo, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself. You just give me such good openings, Weller, and I really can't just pass them up," Taro explained, lips smiling softly, his eyes meeting Blaine's. "You know, I—"

"Fags!" Blaine stiffened as he heard that word, head turning sharply towards a couple of boys at the games across from them, neither of the two looking his and Taro's way.

Taro's eyes narrowed only slightly as he turned towards them, barely losing his smirk for a moment before he said, "No, that's what your mom disclosed to me about your dad last night when we slept together."

The boys scoffed before moving to another aisle, muttering to each other under their breath. Blaine watched Taro, a little bit wide-eyed as the half-Japanese boy turned back to him. "How do you do that?" he asked suddenly, surprising himself.

"Do what?" Taro's voice was slightly confused.

"Stay so calm?" Blaine answered, glancing in the direction the other boys had gone. "I've tried to pretend as if it doesn't bother me but…"

Taro sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "That's the thing, Blaine. Don't pretend as if it doesn't bother you; just don't let it bother you." Blaine frowned, inwardly thinking _'easier said than done'. _"Up for some pizza?"

With a small sigh, Blaine nodded. "Yeah, I just have to use the bathroom first."

"Then I'll wait for you in the food court?" Taro suggested and Blaine gave a slight nod. "I'll leave you to it then." Taro turned and walked from the arcade, leaving Blaine to himself.

Blaine leaned against the wall just next to him, not actually having to use the restroom but really only needing a moment to think to himself. He was honestly having more fun than he had had in a long time.

Months ago—weeks even—Blaine hadn't thought it was possible to have fun like this again, let alone with _Taro Smith_, but here he was with _Taro Smith _having tremendous fun. It was almost like a date.

Did this count as a date? They had kissed, but they hadn't really talked about that. Plus, Blaine was dating Lesley, even if he could freely admit to himself that she was merely a beard. Blaine did not expect to suddenly turn straight and become attracted to females, but he _was _dating her, and he wasn't a person who wanted to cheat on someone. Especially when that someone had been his best friend pretty much his whole fifteen years of life.

Did he _want _to date Taro? Well, that was an entirely different matter. Blaine was a teenage boy, and a healthy one at that. Taro was attractive, and he was actually pretty fun to hang out with if this maybe-date was anything to go by. Blaine was pretty sure those were butterflies in his stomach whenever Taro got within a foot of him as well. He blushed a lot too, and Blaine _never _blushed that much, not for anything.

It was probably safe to say that yes, Blaine would very much enjoy dating Taro. He would also enjoy kissing him again too. Blaine would _definitely _enjoy doing that.

With a sigh, Blaine pushed off of the wall and started towards the food court, thoughts flying through his mind. What was he going to do? He couldn't just go up to Taro and say, "Hey, you know, I think I kind of like you, we should totally go out and like kiss, you know?" That would be what Blaine deemed a _bad _idea, and a very bad one at that.

He would look like a fool! Desperate to kiss the first boy who showed an interest in him that _didn't _send notes saying he was going to die in seven days. It was ridiculous almost how Taro had hated him up until a few weeks before.

Did this make Blaine a masochist? He honestly did not know.

Stepping into the food court, Blaine's eyes darted around, looking for Taro, only to find him sitting at a nearby table. Taro was looking up at a man with a small smile towards a man who was talking to him quietly. Blaine wondered who the man was as a small spark went off in his chest.

Taro seemed to catch sight of him, losing his smile as he quickly stood, saying something to the man before pushing him away and hurrying over to Blaine. "Who was that?" Blaine questioned, eyeing the back of the man who had cast Taro a glare before walking off.

The older teen shrugged, hands deep inside of his pockets. "I think he thought I was someone else, it's nothing really. So, pizza?" Blaine's eyebrows rose as Taro seemingly darted around the question, but he decided to let it go. It wasn't any of his business anyway.

Yet Blaine really couldn't help feeling just a little bit curious about that man as he followed Taro towards the pizza stand, and maybe just a little bit jealous as well.

* * *

"So, I kinda had a great time today, Weller." Taro admitted as they stood outside of Blaine's front door. Blaine didn't know exactly what to say to that, so he just nodded, giving a small smile.

Taro seemed to want to say something, opening his mouth only to close it a moment later, thinking better of himself. With a sigh, he said, "I should go, but we should hang out again. It's probably a lot more fun than hanging out with your fake girlfriend, hm?"

Blaine's lips twitched at that. "Yeah, a lot more fun actually." He hesitated for a second. "Hey, do you want to come in? My mother and brother are home, but my dad is still working. We can hang out and if you want I can help you with that report that I _know _you haven't actually done any of and is due tomorrow."

The boy in front of him bit his lip, almost as if he was holding back a grin. "Sure, I'd love to come up for a bit. Lead the way, Weller. Although maybe we can do something else besides study—and you must be Mrs. Weller." Taro greeted as the two of them walked, holding out his hand.

Blaine's mother blinked, taken aback by the extra person accompanying her son home. "Ah, yes, and who might you be…?" she questioned as she gently took Taro's hand.

"I'm Taro Smith, a friend of Blaine's," Taro answered, looking at Blaine with a smile and Blaine felt his heart flutter slightly.

"We're going to be up in my room, is that okay, Mom?" Blaine asked hopefully, suddenly feeling very nervous, almost as if he was about to do something behind his mother's back, but of course he wasn't.

Hannah gave Taro a look almost as if she were studying him. "I suppose so, Blaine, but don't make a mess and no rough-housing." She told him sternly, clearing her throat. "I best get back to cooking, and you're welcome to stay for dinner Mr. Smith."

"Taro, call me Taro," he corrected with a grimace. "My father is Mr. Smith and I don't like being compared to him, and thank you, I will."

"Well," Blaine began awkwardly as his mother forced a smile onto her face. It was obvious to him that she did not approve of Taro. "We're going now, and don't forget to knock before you come in." He felt the need to add that before starting up the stairs, motioning for Taro to follow him.

"And why did you add that, Mr. Weller?" Taro whispered quietly as they made their way upstairs and Blaine could swear that he could hear a smirk in his voice.

"Because I hate people coming in without knocking. Why else?" he replied slightly defensively, even though he knew that wasn't actually the truth.

Taro chuckled as Blaine opened his door, brushing past him to walk into his bedroom. "If you say so, Blaine."

Closing his door, Blaine took in a deep breath as he heard Taro drop down onto his mattress. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't as if anything _had _to happen, but… Blaine kind of wanted it to.

"Nice room, Blaine." Blaine turned as Taro said this, only to find that Taro wasn't even looking at any of his posters and choices of decoration, but instead had his eyes firmly kept on Blaine. "Now," he continued, dropping his bag on the floor as he kicked off his shoes. "You said you would help me with my essay. Are you sure that's _really _what you brought me up here to do, Weller?"

Taro's voice was suggestive and Blaine shuffled on his feet, feeling his face heat up. His skin felt as if it was sunburned, and it was drastically warm. He quickly removed his jacket, wondering why he had worn a sweater that day.

"Because honestly," Taro said, now standing, his bare toes slightly digging into the blue carpet. "It's not what_ I_ came up here for." He took a step closer and Blaine found himself having to look away for fear of fainting from how dizzy he was getting.

"T-then what did you come up here for?" In only a few seconds, Taro was once again standing in front of him, and Blaine looked up at him, breath catching in his throat and his stomach knotting tightly.

"I think you know the answer to that, Weller," Taro breathed out, leaning forward and down slightly until their noses were almost brushing. Blaine swallowed thickly, taking a step back only to find himself flush against the door.

Taro grinned, taking another step forward and lightly trailing a finger down Blaine's sweater-covered arm. "Your first kiss with a boy was short, and before that your first kiss was with a girl. I already know which one was better, but Blaine, that kiss we shared yesterday was barely even a kiss." Taro's voice was only a whisper, but it filled the room as if it were music loudly playing.

The finger trailed up to run across Blaine's neck. Blaine could feel blood pounding through him, and he was sure Taro could feel it as well. His breathing was getting faster, heavier, and _why didn't Taro just kiss him already_?

"I'm sure you're curious," Taro continued, stepping closer to him than Blaine thought possible. "I can answer any of your questions should you ask, but it's much more fun to find out for yourself…" Taro licked his lips lightly and _God _his tongue was so pink.

Blaine's eyes fluttered slightly and barely a second later he felt lips gently touch his, nothing more than a peck before Taro pulled away to speak, their lips still brushing. "You just have to say the word, Blaine. Tell me what you want."

Say the word… hm? Could he do that? Could Blaine make that jump? It would be cheating, even if he didn't actually have any feelings for Lesley. His mom was just downstairs, and his brother was in the next room. Could he really take the chance for either one of them to walk in? Especially the chance for his mother to walk in?

Blaine looked up into dark brown eyes, a bit more glazed over and glassy than they had been earlier in the day. His own eyes were heavy, and his palms were sweating and felt uncomfortable. Blaine merely licked his lips, trying to wet them, but his mouth had gone dry.

Yeah, he thought maybe he _could _take the chance.

"Show me," Blaine answered after a minute, that nervous fluttering in his stomach suddenly getting a lot larger. "I-I'm curious. That kiss yesterday… I kind of want more of it."

Taro's lips rose into a smile before the taller boy leaned forward, pressing their lips together. It was weird, but somehow it was a _good _weird, and Blaine eagerly pressed them harder to Taro's.

His lips tasted of pizza and soda, but Blaine was sure his did as well. He felt a hand grasp at the side of his face, pressing him hard back into the door. Blaine felt a little awkward, but it was so _good_. He didn't know where to put his hands, or how to move his mouth in that perfect way, but Taro seemed experienced enough for the both of them.

Teeth pinched at his lower lip, nipping at it and Blaine gasped, mouth opening enough for Taro to plunge his tongue into his mouth and _wow_. Blaine had wondered a few times about how having another person's tongue in his mouth could at all be fun, but finally he understood what the hype was all about.

There was something nice about being so close to someone he liked as much as he liked Taro. Maybe kissing wasn't the first thing people thought of when they thought '_intimate', _but for Blaine it was more than enough.

His stomach was fluttering, and he felt as if he was on fire as Taro turned them around, walking them back over to Blaine's bed. Blaine felt his legs smack against the mattress and he fell backwards, Taro falling on top of him. Panting, Taro straddled his hips, quickly removing his own jacket and tossed it on the ground before diving back down, this time attaching his lips to Blaine's throat.

"God," Blaine moaned, threading one hand in Taro's hair as he fisted the other in the back of his shirt. Taro licked at his skin, sucking at the pulsing vein in his neck, and Blaine let out a breathy gasp, eyes closing.

He felt his stomach stir, heat flowing over his body, but this was somehow comfortable and he wanted _more. _

Oh _God_, Blaine wanted more of it.

* * *

_Before you ask me, no, they do __**not **__have sex. Good day to you all! _=D


End file.
